


All That You Are (Is All We'll Ever Need)

by EmceeMC



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, RWBY, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crossover Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Lifestyles, Angst, Bumbleby - Freeform, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Drabble, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, It's Going to be an Angsty road, Korrasami - Freeform, Korrasami and Bumbleby Polyamory, Korrasami/Bumbleby/Catradora Polyamory is Endgame, Multi, Or bisexual, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Post-Graduation, Safe Sane and Consensual, Slow Burn, Truth or Dare, catradora, everyone is kinky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 71,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24895327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmceeMC/pseuds/EmceeMC
Summary: When Catra and Adora moved to Republic City to make a new start for themselves, the last thing they expected was to run into an old friend of Adora’s from college. Now, living with two other couples, Catra has to come to terms with her past, as well as the odd relationship dynamic she’s beginning to notice amongst her housemates.Chapters will be mostly from Catra’s POV with some other characters sprinkled in. Slow burn, angsty drabble with Korrasami/Bumbleby/Catradora polyamory as endgame. Tags will be updated as I write, later chapters will probably bump the rating to explicit. See notes in chapter one for worldbuilding info.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Korra/Asami Sato, Korrasami/Bumbleby, Korrasami/Bumbleby/Catradora
Comments: 143
Kudos: 145





	1. Girl's Night, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is an AU crossover I’ve had kicking around my head for a while now. This is a modern, fictional setting with modern elements of the worlds of Etheria, Remnant and A:LoK. The characters are all post-grad, in their early to mid 20s. Their pasts will be expanded upon as the story goes on, but most of them have some version of the big struggles they faced in their own canon appearances worked into their background. 
> 
> In this world, all individuals with animal features are faunus. Some faunus, like Blake, have more human lineage and therefore have fewer animal features. Others, like Catra, are more animalistic in appearance. Yes this does mean fantasy racism is a theme that will be broached probably down the line. 
> 
> Some chapters may be flashbacks, some may be their own self-contained short story. There will be (safe and consensual) kinky sex in later chapters. I’m also attempting to experiment with a loving, romantic poly relationship between the holy trinity of animated wlw couples that’s more than just ‘and then everyone fucked.’
> 
> Feedback is deeply appreciated, and if anyone is interested in being a beta reader for future chapters, give me a heads up in the comments. 
> 
> A good percent of this first chapter is a meta joke, so please enjoy.

The Hoard Bot caught Adora off guard. 

She had been charged with scouting the perimeter of the enemy encampment and getting an accurate count of their numbers. But something must have gone wrong - maybe she wasn't as stealthy as she had assumed - and when she'd poked her head out from behind a rock outcropping the bot had ambushed her. 

She'd gotten lucky and managed to duck around its first swing. The bot was big and round with four legs that gave it a surprisingly impressive range of motion. It's first attack had been clumsy, but the second was a burst of plasma energy that clipped Adora, singeing her slightly as she threw herself out of the way. 

She smirked as the bot tracked her, lining up a second shot. "My turn," she said. 

She stood and held out her hand as the bot loomed over her. With a triumphant roar, she called out, "For the honor of Grayskull!" 

There was a flash of blinding light as she changed, growing well over two feet, her familiar sword blazing in her hand. Her eyes burned with blue light as she held the blade aloft, staring down the creature. 

But her transformation had taken time, and the bot took the opportunity to swing a metallic arm towards her. She barely felt it, letting the blow glance off of her muscular shoulder. She leapt as it's laser blasted the ground at her feet and she shouted as she drove the blade into the machine in front of her. 

The first blow was devastating, but she drew the blade free and smashed it into the metal shell once more to be certain. The bot fell, leaking fluid like blood, the light on the front of its body winking out. 

"Hey Adora," an amused voice said. 

She looked up, panting. Standing a little ways along the rock outcrop, eyeing her nails, was a familiar face. She wore close fitting armor and a whip coiled on her hip. 

"Catra," Adora said, gritting her teeth in frustration. "If you were just going to follow me, why did you send me alone to scout?" 

She looked up at her, those mismatched blue-and-gold eyes twinkling. "I just wanted to see how you'd do. Badly, it turns out." She grinned, exposing pointed teeth. 

They were interrupted by a clanking sound coming from the direction of the enemy camp. Adora groaned in frustration. 

"Well, thanks to you, we now have to face the bots ourselves. With no backup." 

Catra stretched and idly took the whip from her belt, yawning as the group of a dozen or so bots lurched towards them with a spider-like gait. 

"Relax, princess," she said. "They'll show up when the fireworks start." She lunged forward quickly, snapping her whip at the first bot, scoring the metal across its faceplate. Adora rolled her eyes and ran after her, finishing the bot she had started on with a crushing swing of her sword. Catra was frowning at her weapon. 

"What the hell? I thought I'd do way more damage than that," she complained. Adora swung her sword a second time, severing the leg of another bot, though it remained standing. 

"We've been over this," Adora said. "You didn't wait for me to get in melee with them so I could distract them. We have to work together!" 

The first few bots were upon them, swinging their heavy limbs, flashes of plasma lighting the wasteland around them. Only one or two were aimed at Catra, who dodged them with almost laughable ease. Adora was less lucky. Plasma bolts nicked her as she spun and tried to dodge. One such dodge put her right in the path of a heavy, mechanical arm which slammed her in the chest. 

"Adora!" Catra cried out. She lashed her whip at the exposed joint the bot had left when it attacked Adora. This time the weapon struck true, damaging part of its internal mechanism and sending it careening to the ground sending up sparks. 

"I'm fine," Adora said, rubbing her chest and wincing only slightly. "I take less damage like this." 

Catra narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were some kind of magic sword person. Why do you get to take less damage?" 

Adora sighed. "I told you, I took my last level in Barbarian so I could take a few more hits. And I'm not a 'magic sword person,' I'm a Warlock with the Pact of the Blade." 

"I didn't know there was a thing that let you take less damage," Catra said petulantly. 

"Well, what did you take your last level in?" 

Catra shrugged. One of the bots took the opportunity to charge her, but before it could reach her, a massive form appeared as if from nowhere, pouncing on the bot and ripping out its front panel. 

"The one that let me have a magic panther," she said. "It seemed like fun."

There were more bots gathering around them now. Adora raised her sword, ready to smash the closest to smithereens when a screech of metal-on-metal interrupted her. The bot froze, then dropped, throwing sparks from its chassis. A pale, slender figure shoved the useless thing aside, pulling a kusarigama free of the construct by its chain. She had chin-length black hair with cat's ears emerging from the top of her head. They twitched in amusement. 

"Are you two going to spend the rest of the night arguing?" Blake asked. 

Catra's own ears flattened against her head. "How did you do that? That one had full health!" 

Blake shrugged a shoulder. "I didn't multiclass. It makes my sneak attack stronger than yours.” 

Catra frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "This game is dumb," she complained, but nobody took her seriously anymore. If she disliked it that much, she wouldn't keep playing. 

The three girls turned to face the incoming army, weapons held at the ready. But before they could attack, a triumphant yell came from the opposite direction. 

"Ladies and, well, ladies, the cavalry is here! Heee-ya!" Metal screamed as Yang threw herself into the fray fists-first. A burst of flame followed her attack, and the group watched as Korra joined her, throwing jets of fire with every punch. 

Adora shot Catra a grin. She rolled her eyes dramatically, but she could see the corners of her mouth twitch as she flourished her whip, her panther growling at her side. The girls had the bots surrounded now. It was child’s play at that point, weapons flashing, bursts of elemental energy hurling bots this way and that. Adora dealt the finishing blow to the last bot, cleaving it nearly in half with a heavy two-handed blow.  
  
“That wasn’t so hard,” Catra said, winding up her whip and securing it to her belt once again.  
  
“That’s because they were just the warm up,” Yang said with a smirk. “There’s gotta be something big on the way."

Korra frowned. "I thought that was why we were taking Asami to the access panel. You know, to shut down the robots or whatever." 

Yang shrugged. "Sure, that was the plan. But I kind of figured that was shot when Adora failed her stealth check." 

"Which I would have passed if a certain _someone_ had been helping me," Adora said, shooting an accusatory look at Catra who had gone back to examining her nails, flicking her tail in amusement. 

Korra threw up her hands in frustration. "Did you tell Asami that the plan had changed?" 

Yang frowned. "I figured you had. You were closer to her!"

"I was not!" Korra said. "I was levitating about a hundred feet away being a lookout!" 

"Okay, but Monks have, like, crazy speed so I figured-" 

"Just because fighters are usually dumb doesn't mean you have to be-"  
  
“If you were on lookout then why couldn’t you see-”  
  
“I swear if you get us killed because-”

"Hey!" Adora yelled over the two of them. "Asami's over there!" 

The group turned to look, and sure enough, Asami was cresting the hill, moving unnaturally quickly, her Artificer's gauntlet crackling with power. The five of them relaxed until they saw she was waving her hands, panicky, pointing to something behind her. The ground rumbled beneath their feet as a huge bot on massive spiked legs appeared behind her, its glowing red eye scanning over them all. 

"Told you there was something bigger," Yang said with a fierce grin. 

Asami reached them well before the massive bot, the Haste effect of her gauntlet making her supernaturally fast. "Failed a check," she gasped. "Tripped some kind of alarm. But I got the info we were here for." 

The others exchanged glances. "Info?" Yang finally said. Asami stared at her. 

"Yes, the info. Remember? The technomancer, Hordak, is only here as a distraction while the fire sorceress, Cinder, searches for the location of the Fall Maiden's vault. He set up this camp as a decoy, but we thought that he may have a list of possible vault locations."

Only Adora seemed to be keeping up with her. Asami sighed and addressed her directly. "Well, the point is, I at least got the list." 

"So, remind me again, what happens if Cindy gets the vault thingy again?" Yang asked, scratching her messy blonde head. 

"Oh! I know this," Adora said, shuffling through some papers. "She needs the relics in all four vaults to open the portal to the spirit world and release Vaatu, the king of dark spirits." 

"Thank you!" Asami said. "At least somebody else here takes notes." 

"I thought the spirit portal could only be opened during Harmonious Coverage," Korra said. "Didn't we talk to that weird old wizard about it? Oz something?" 

"Harmonic Convergence," Adora corrected her. "That's why Cinder needs the relics." Asami nodded approvingly. Blake and Yang exchanged glances. 

"Uh, were we at that session? Because I remember, like, none of this," Yang said.

"Yes! You were at that session!" the huge bot said, making them all jump. "It was actually information you learned over _several_ sessions, woven together into a complex narrative!" 

Yang threw up her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, sorry DT." 

The bot huffed melodramatically. "You'd know all this if you bothered to take notes.”  
  
Yang shrugged. “What’s the point? Our notes aren’t going to be as good as Asami’s, so why bother?”  
  
“And besides,” Blake said, one of her ears twitching, “now we have Adora to keep notes for this side of the table.”  
  
Behind their Dungeon Master’s screen, Double Trouble’s head hit the table with an exasperated sigh. “Just roll initiative already.”

* * *

Dungeons and Dragons was a very odd game, Catra decided for maybe the dozenth time as she let her die clatter across the wooden surface of the table. The seven of them were gathered around the large dining room table, a gridded mat covering most of its surface. Miniature bots and characters and other things littered the mat. Dice and papers were strewn everywhere, with a higher concentration of papers in front of Adora and Asami - the ‘responsible’ members of their friend group.  
  
Despite playing with them for almost a month now, Catra could see no end to the ‘complex narrative’ their Dungeon Master had woven in sight, and it had alarmed her when she realized that this game had actually been going on for some time _before_ she and Adora had joined in. There also didn’t seem to be a way to win D&D aside from not being killed by monsters. She’d asked once if they won when they got to level twenty, which seemed to be the highest level, but she’d been told that most games didn’t even get past the high teens.  
  
But Adora had been excited when the others had invited them to join, and Catra would do an embarrassing amount of things to make Adora smile, so here she was, playing make-believe with rules. She’d even attempted to take notes. Her slightly ragged looking character sheet had lots of scribbles in the margins that she in no way could interpret or recall the context for, but she’d given it a shot at least. 

The Dungeon Master was getting their initiative rolls now. Catra had known them back when they had been Dameon Townsend - though these days they preferred to go by their drag name, Double Trouble, or DT for short. It had been weird running into them when she and Adora had moved to Republic City - but in a lot of ways, it was a kind of miracle. 

They’d come to Republic City looking for a fresh start - a way to try and put the past behind them and find a way to move forward together. But after two months subletting a one bedroom apartment and no leads on more affordable long-term housing, it had been looking like they would have to leave the city and strike out to make their start somewhere cheaper.  
  
As it turned out, Double Trouble was moving out of their current living situation. They had been renting a room from a friend of a friend for a reasonable price and promised to set them up with one of the house’s residents. Only after more discussion did they realize that one of the house mates DT had been living with was Yang Xiao Long - a friend of Adora’s from her time at Beacon University. 

Catra’s stomach twisted at the thought. She wondered how long she would have to endure the feeling of abandonment and betrayal she’d felt when Adora had told her she was going abroad, to some place called Brightmoon, for college. True, she had begged Catra to come with her, but Catra had been too afraid to take the leap. She didn’t have the grades for a program like Beacon’s, she’d rationalized. She wasn’t their kind of student. So she’d let Adora go on without her while she spent her years ruining her own life and pining after the woman she could have had if she’d only had a little more courage.  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force those thoughts from her mind. It wasn’t easy. Catra had never been very good at controlling her emotions. She turned her attention back to the game instead. The robot monster thing had just used some big laser, and DT was asking her and the others to make dexterity saving throws.  
  
Adora and Yang reconnecting had, ultimately, been the best thing that could have happened for them. Yang, it turned out, had been living with a friend of hers from post-grad, a girl named Korra, whose girlfriend happened to be the CEO of Future Industries. _The_ Future Industries. As in, holds the record for most consecutive top-ten appearances in the Fortune 500 list Future Industries. Catra’s foster mom had always tried to lecture her about being well-connected and networking and other bullshit, and she had always ignored her. She wondered what she would think if she saw her now, renting a room for a frankly ludicrously cheap price from Asami fucking Sato in what most people would agree to be the capital of the world.  
  
And yet somehow, all of that paled in comparison to the miracle that was Adora, sitting by her side, playing this stupid game with her. The fact that she was here, in a life she got to share with her was the kind of miracle that Catra didn’t want to examine too closely, lest it all turn into a dream and melt away before her eyes. She watched her join in with a collective cheer from the group as Yang slammed the boss monster with a critical hit, incapacitating it and winning them the battle. Adora caught her eye and beamed at her, making Catra flush and look away with an embarrassed grin on her own face.  
  
“Well ladies, despite your fumbling, it looks like you’ll live to chase down Cinder after all,” Double Trouble said with a mischievous grin. The chameleon faunus was tall and slender, with green skin and a flair for the dramatic. Their long tail lashed out with excitement as they grinned at them over the screen they used to keep their die rolls hidden from the players - an aspect of the game Catra wasn’t a fan of. “But, unfortunately, that will have to wait. I told Prince I’d take him to dinner tonight, and I’m not showing up for a date without plenty of time to wash my hair.” They flung long golden locks over one shoulder and Catra rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure DT had ever had a bad hair day in their entire life.  
  
But, they’d been playing since noon and Catra’s tolerance for make believe was starting to wane, so she accepted the excuse and began to help the others clear up. Apparently their little tradition of weekend D&D had begun back when Double Trouble had been living with them and nobody had wanted to stop. As far as group bonding went, Catra was sure there could be worse things. Plus, with six of them sitting around the table, she didn’t have to do much from session to session. Korra, Yang and Adora had a tendency to lead things, with Asami taking notes and Blake making quiet additions when there was an opening.  
  
Besides, Catra didn’t really like the thought of there being something Adora did with her new friends that she couldn’t share with her. She’d had enough of that for a lifetime.  
  
“So, what’s the plan for the evening?” Yang asked once they’d bid farewell to DT and stored the books, papers and other accessories that went with their game. Yang was the kind of person who always wanted to be doing _something_ , and preferably with a group of people. She wasn’t quite sure how her quiet, reserved girlfriend handled her constant energy.  
  
Korra stretched. “Well, I don’t have anything to do in the morning. I’m rescheduling my Sunday mornings since nobody was showing up.” Korra was a martial arts instructor and taught self-defense classes at the local gym on weekends. That was how she and Yang had met back when she’d moved to Republic City.  
  
“And I just finished up quarterly reports, which means no more working weekends for a while,” Asami added. Catra’s heart sank slightly as the general consensus seemed to be that, for the first time since the two of them had moved in, everybody had a night and subsequent morning free of responsibilities. 

Yang flung her arms around Adora, lifting her in a bear hug that made a tiny, repressed part of Catra’s heart twinge with jealousy. “That’s awesome! We haven’t had a chance to really celebrate you moving in! This is perfect! We’ll order pizza, watch scary movies, play games! You know, actual quality girl time!”  
  
Blake put a hand on Yang’s shoulder as she released Adora. “If that’s what you guys want to do, of course,” Blake said with a warm smile.  
  
Blake was faunus, true, the same as Catra and Double Trouble. But it was clear from looking at her that she had more human lineage than either of them. She didn’t have any fur on her, and hardly displayed any animal traits aside from the extra set of ears on top of her head. Of course, she also had a faunus’s enhanced senses, night vision and naturally increased balance and poise. She could just pass for human when she went out.  
  
Some people had all the luck.  
  
Adora was looking at her, and Catra forced herself to snap back to reality. “Well?” she asked, nudging her ribs. “What do you think?”  
  
It was a genuine question. Adora knew that Catra wasn’t exactly a people person. The fact that the household so far had only sat down all together for these D&D sessions had suited her well enough. But Adora was already becoming fast friends with the group, and she wasn’t going to be the one to spoil an evening of fun just because she was, well, her. So she made herself smile.  
  
“Yeah, that sounds great.”  
  
Yang punched the air and she saw the others looking excited as well. Even Asami, who always seemed to be so calm and composed.

 _And gorgeous_ , Catra added to herself, feeling a little twinge of self-loathing at the traitorous thought. _Shut up. You have Adora. You don’t get to look at other women while you have her_ .  
  
Plans were already being made to go pick up food and drinks. Fortunately, as the ones being celebrated, Adora and Catra weren’t given jobs. As the group began to split up with plans to meet together in the living room in an hour, Catra decided to head upstairs and try and get some alone time before the inevitable bonding began.  
  
The house they all shared was huge by Catra’s standards, though apparently a downsize from Asami’s childhood home. There were ‘only’ three bedrooms - the master that Korra and Asami shared, another bedroom on the second floor down the hall from them, and one on the third floor. The third floor room was where Adora and Catra stayed. There was also a den on the third floor that was theirs, though they shared the bathroom on the floor below with Blake and Yang. Not that it mattered much with how big it was.  
  
It was to the den that Catra retreated now. It was cozy, decorated with lots of soft fabrics and nice furniture. They even had their own TV up here so that they didn’t have to fight for dominance over what to watch with their housemates. Catra curled up in her favorite chair, wrapping her tail around herself. It was big, with a high back and a big plush cushion. She looked at the TV, considering turning it on, but not really wanting to watch anything. She looked at her reflection in the black glass instead, toying with a strand of hair. It was growing back in, and had reached that awkward length where it was long enough to get in her eyes and be a nuisance, but not long enough for her to put up effectively.

  
She didn’t like her hair. She didn’t like most of herself if she was being honest. It didn’t help living in a household full of gorgeous women. She wasn’t some pale-skinned beauty like Asami or Blake, with their raven hair and startlingly bright eyes. But she also didn’t have the smooth, darker complexion of Korra, or Yang and Adora’s easy tan. She had weird, mismatched eyes, and probably more hair than was attractive. She was the youngest, the shortest, and the skinniest by far. The idea of them celebrating anything for her seemed absurdly comical.  
  
_Such a disappointment_ , a cruel voice in her mind seemed to say. _At least at home you were second-best_ . She closed her eyes against the intrusive thoughts. She didn’t need to hear Zella right now. Her foster mom wasn’t in her life anymore. She had escaped all of that.  
  
_Adora loves me_ , she thought to herself. _That must mean I’m worth_ something, _right?_

As if on cue, the door to the den opened and Adora peeked inside. “Catra?” she said, “Everything okay?”  
  
Catra tried her best to relax and look like she hadn’t been drowning a little in self-depreciation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just figured I’d get some space while everyone’s setting up.”  
  
Adora came over to her and Catra scooched over enough so that she could squeeze into the chair with her. They were very close, but Adora was the one person Catra felt like she could never be close enough to. She put an arm around Catra and rested her head on her shoulder.  
  
“You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Adora said after a minute. 

“You want to,” Catra said.  
  
Adora shrugged. “Well, sure, but I know it’s a lot of socializing for you.” Catra flicked an ear dismissively.  
  
“They’re our friends. I should want to spend time with them.” Before Adora could say anything she went on. “Time with them in the real world, not in Exandria or whatever.”  
  
“Etheria,” Adora corrected her, probably out of habit. “Well, what if we made some kind of signal? That way, if you want to go up to bed early, you can signal me and I can make an excuse for us.”  
  
Catra tensed up. “You don’t have to do that,” she said softly. Adora raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“You know, protect me. I can handle a night of hanging out with people.”  
  
“I know that. I just thought-”  
  
“You just thought that you had to cover for me. You don’t, Adora, I can manage!” She felt Adora flinch at her outburst, but she didn’t draw away from her. She just sat there, her steady presence warm and comforting.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Catra said after a minute. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”  
  
Adora shrugged, but Catra couldn’t bring herself to look at her. She was supposed to be better than this. Why did she still feel like she couldn’t control her temper?  
  
She felt Adora shift beside her, then kiss her on the cheek. She relaxed slightly, then leaned into her for support. Her tail brushed against Adora’s leg and they sat like that for a little while. Then, after a few minutes, she reached out and flexed her fingers, extending her claws. She kneaded Adora’s knee. Not enough to pierce the fabric of her jeans or even be uncomfortable, but enough to be noticeable. “That can be our signal,” she said quietly. She felt Adora nod. Catra shifted and pressed her face into Adora’s shoulder, trying to put as much gratitude as she could into the gesture. She took such good care of her. Why did she have such a hard time letting herself be cared for?  
  
_Because you don’t deserve it,_ Zella’s voice whispered in her ear. Catra flattened her ears, willing the voice away.  
  
Adora kissed the top of her head and extracted her arm from around her carefully. “I’m going to change. If we’re having a house party, I might as well look nice, right?”  
  
Catra arched an eyebrow. “It’s literally just the six of us. What do you need to change for?”  
  
Adora gave her what was clearly supposed to be a suggestive look. “Well, see, there’s this super cute faunus girl I’m hoping to get to notice me.” She wiggled her eyebrows, making Catra giggle despite herself.  
  
“You’re such a dork,” she said, getting to her feet. Her tail lashed behind her. “Though I suppose Blake _is_ into blondes.” Adora shoved her playfully and Catra smirked as she followed her into their bedroom.  
  
They spent a little while looking at clothes and trying to decide what would be considered ‘too much’ effort. Adora finally landed on a tight-fitting, sleeveless, low-cut top that showed off the muscles in her arms and back, tucked into a pair of well fitted high-waisted pants in dark grey. Catra settled on jeans and a black tank top, pulling on a short-sleeved flannel shirt over that and tying it off at the waist to give her something approaching style while trying to hide her very non-existent body. It would have to do.  
  
She paused as she looked at herself in the mirror. She’d been wearing long sleeves earlier that day, but her current outfit left her arms bare. She looked down, scowling at the scars across her right forearm. There were a lot of them, some of them uglier and more prominent than others, all of them too straight to be accidents. Interspersed amongst them were smaller, uglier scars. The last of her track marks, still marring her skin. She swallowed past a lump in her throat and pulled on a black sleeve, covering her right forearm completely. Better for nobody to ask questions.  
  
If Adora had noticed her staring at the reminders of her past mistakes, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she draped her arms over Catra’s shoulders, eyeing the pair of them in the mirror.  
  
“You know, we’re pretty hot,” she said into her ear. Catra blushed deeply and her tail wrapped around Adora’s leg.  
  
“I think you’re kind of carrying the team there,” she said, but she slid a hand up to cup Adora’s cheek. Adora kissed her behind her ear. Then dipped down and kissed her neck, sending a shiver through Catra.  
  
“That’s just not true,” she said and her voice was soft and just a little husky in a way that made Catra’s breath catch in her chest.  
  
“Adora,” she said, not really for any reason. She just loved the sound of her name and the fact that she could say it. Adora kissed her neck agan. Her hands shifted to wrap around her waist, giving her access to Catra’s shoulders. She kissed her there, too.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Adora whispered to her. Catra felt something warm blossom in her stomach and her eyes slid closed as heat and emotion threatened to overwhelm her. For a moment, she almost _felt_ beautiful. Adora’s lips on her skin, her powerful arms holding her so tightly. She wanted to believe it.  
  
She turned in Adora’s arms and kissed her, throwing her arms around her neck in the process. Adora didn’t budge - she was so stupid _strong_ it was annoying - but held her up, kissing her back with a passion that made Catra feel like she was worth something.  
  
She didn’t like herself. She didn’t think she was beautiful, or worth being loved. But Adora did. For some strange reason, Adora thought she was some kind of prize. She thought that _she_ was the lucky one in their relationship. She was wrong, but sometimes, Catra could just remember that Adora believed those things, and pretend that she believed them herself. She was Adora’s and Adora was hers. That’s all that mattered at the moment.  
  
Part of Catra wanted to deepen the kiss. She wanted to push Adora over to their bed and straddle her and continue pretending she was desirable. But she was uncomfortably aware of the time. She let their kiss slow to something softer and lighter. Then she gave her a few quick kisses just because Adora’s lips were so soft and they were _hers_ to kiss, and wasn’t that just an incredible thing that she would never take for granted? Those seemed to make Adora giggle, which made Catra smile and want to kiss her more. Her stupid, adorable, brilliant, beautiful, _dork_ .  
  
She finally made herself stop kissing her and nuzzled Adora’s neck instead. She let herself be held, let herself feel warm and loved, until she knew that they should be heading downstairs to see the others.  
  
“Feel a little better?” Adora whispered and her breath made Catra’s ear twitch. She hesitated a moment, then nodded. She knew it wouldn’t last. She’d find herself alone or in some corner of the living room while Adora was chatting with the others and then all the invasive, negative thoughts would return. She wasn’t worth anything without Adora. But at the moment, she did feel better, so she let Adora take her hand and lead her downstairs to the living room.  
  


Yang and Korra had returned from picking up supplies. They had set up the dining room table with enough snacks for a small army, and Catra could smell the half-dozen pizzas from the moment they stepped outside of their room. She arched an eyebrow as she observed the feast. If they ate even half of that, Catra would be shocked. And probably a little appalled.  
  
Beer had been stashed in the fridge and there were a few liquor bottles to go with the collection that already existed in the cabinet. Catra ignored these and fished a soda out of the fridge instead, standing a little apart from the group as paper plates were loaded with junk food. Once that was done, they all adjourned to the living room where Blake was idly flicking through movies, sorting out a few that might be fun to watch. She accepted a paper plate absent-mindedly from Yang who also set a cider on the side table next to her before sitting next to the faunus on the smaller of the two couches and bugging her about her movie choices.  
  
Catra found herself watching Blake and Yang the most of the couples they shared the house with. It wasn’t hard to see herself and Adora in them. Blake’s ability to pass was different than Catra, who didn’t even bother to wear shoes most days since it was hard to find ones that fit her long, clawed feet, but they were still the only other interracial couple she’d met. Humans and faunus didn’t mix, that was a pretty common sentiment the world over. And yet, here were two people who made it work. Maybe it helped that Yang, like Adora, gave off the vibe of being able to fight anybody who said anything insensitive about their partner or their relationship. Or maybe Blake just didn’t care about what the rest of the world thought about her. Catra wondered what that would be like.  
  
The living room was nice and spacious, like everywhere else in the house. It was decorated in lots of shades of brown and dark, warm colors. There was a fireplace, though it was unlit at the moment, and the massive television hung on the wall over it. There were a few pleasantly cluttered bookshelves, but most of the books and other things were kept in the library. In addition to the worn leather furniture, someone - probably Korra - had produced a number of bean bag chairs to surround the central coffee table. Korra was sitting in one of those, beer perched precariously on the edge of the table as she ate and made suggestions on movies she’d seen or hadn’t seen. Her bean bag was settled in front of the leather armchair Asami sat in, and she leaned against her legs comfortably.  
  
Adora and Catra sat on the larger of the two couches, further apart than the other couples. It wasn’t that Catra had anything against public displays of affection _persay_ , but they made her feel vulnerable in a way that was still a little uncomfortable. One the one or two double dates they’d gone on with Bow and Glimmer back before they’d left Brightmoon, Catra had really only held hands with Adora or occasionally brushed her with her tail. And she’d been much closer to those two than their new group of housemates.  
  
General consensus landed on a Mistralian horror movie of some kind. According to Blake - an apparent enthusiast of Mistral and their culture - they made the best horror movies. The lights were dimmed and the movie started. Catra had never really been terribly scared of horror movies. Most of them were pretty campy, and the ones that weren’t didn’t really compare to some of the things she’d actually seen in her life. But even still, she had to admit that this one was creepy.  
  
In it, a small farm was plagued by a strange apathy that took over the people one by one, and every now and then, one of the girls would point to the screen and make an exclamation, drawing attention to a thin, skeletal looking figure that would vanish once the camera panned in its direction.  
  
Catra felt Adora leaning into her, and with the room dark as it was, and people’s attention elsewhere, she felt comfortable taking her hand and letting her squeeze it. She brushed her comfortingly with her tail on occasion too, trying to ride the high of getting to be her safety. It was probably for that reason alone that she didn’t start freaking out when the protagonists went into the sewers and confronted the strange, alien hoard of creatures who sapped the very will to live from their bodies.  
  
“That was so messed up!” Korra said as the movie ended and Yang rushed to hit the lights. “Everybody just dies at the end? Who does that?”  
  
Blake had her usual half-smile on her face, like she was sharing a joke with everybody at once. “That’s what makes it good. It doesn’t try to contrive some kind of happy ending or victory at the end. Horror stops being horror if you can beat it.” Korra shivered, but didn’t really have a response to that. “Shall we try another? I think there’s one from that same director on here.”  
  
“Nuh-uh,” Yang said. “I need to be much drunker before I watch another one of those.”  
  
“Sounds like a drinking game is in order,” Korra said enthusiastically before downing the rest of her beer. “What are we thinking? King’s Cup? Flip Cup? We’d have to clear the table for beer pong, but I think we’ve got ping pong balls somewhere.”  
  
Asami arched an eyebrow delicately. “We’re regressing to college years now, are we?”  
  
Korra grinned. “Why not? Yang and Adora used to play them all the time at Beacon, she told me herself. Right?”  
  
Yang nodded enthusiastically but Adora shifted beside Catra. She’d let go of her hand when the lights came on, she noticed. “Well, yeah, but, um, I don’t really drink anymore.” Catra felt her shoulders tense, her ears lowering.  
  
“Get out! When did you stop?” Yang said.  
  
“I, um,” Adora floundered. Catra forced herself to speak up, interrupting her.  
  
“Adora’s being nice.” She tried to ignore the flood of anxiety as five pairs of eyes focused on her. Her ears drooped lower and she stared at a spot on the floor. “I don’t drink. I haven’t in a bit.”  
  
There was an awkward pause and Catra felt her face burn. “But, you guys can still play, I’ll just sit it out. I don’t want to ruin the night.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Blake said at the same time Asami said, “Don’t be silly.”  
  
“Hey, I know what we could do!” Yang said, lighting up. “Let’s go _way_ old school. Truth or dare? People who want to drink can drink when they’re called on, and Catra can still play. Plus, we’ll get to learn more about you two. I mean, me and Adora go back, but you guys are still kind of mysterious.”  
  
The collective attention returned to their couch and Catra felt her blush deepen. She tried to focus on the fact that they were making an effort to include her and not on the terrifying anxiety some dumb game brought crashing down around her.  
  
“That’s fine with me,” Adora said. Catra just nodded, trying not to look terrified.  
  
“Awesome!” Korra said. “Yang and I will get fresh drinks for everyone. Catra, need another soda?” She nodded again and the two headed for the kitchen, shoving each other good-naturedly along the way. Blake and Asami started to clear up empty paper plates while Adora focused on Catra.  
  
“I don’t have to drink, you know. I don’t mind.” Instinctively, Catra felt the fur on her tail bristle.  
  
_She didn’t mean it condescendingly, you idiot_ , she told herself. _Quit being such a bitch._

“It’s fine,” she said out loud, giving her a smile she didn’t quite feel. “One of us should be sober anyway. Word on the street is, you’re a sloppy drunk.”  
  
“Am not!” Adora said with a laugh. “If you believe everything Yang tells you, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”  
  
Adora’s laugh made Catra laugh and eased the knot of tension in her chest. By the time everybody had settled back in, she was feeling almost comfortable. “So, who starts this thing anyways? I haven’t played since, like, elementary school.”  
  
“Well, you two are the newcomers,” Yang said. Catra noticed that she’d switched from beer to some kind of mixed drink. Korra had too, and they’d brought something similar for Adora. “Why don’t you start?”  
  
Catra’s tail lashed uncomfortably and she took a sip of her soda to give her a moment to consider. “Alright then, Yang, truth or dare.”  
  
Yang snorted. “I’m an easy target,” she said, as she took a big drink from her cup. “Dare.”  
  
Catra frowned. She’d had a question she would have asked, but she hadn’t expected Yang to go straight for a dare. She thought a minute, then something occurred to her. “Okay, you wanted a drinking game right? Well, I dare you to take a drink every time somebody says the word ‘truth.’ Until the game is finished,” she tacked on at the end.  
  
Adora and Korra burst into laughter at that. “Shit,” Yang said. “That’s mean, Cat.”  
  
“I’ve got a bit of a mean streak in me,” Catra said, with a mischievous smile, her tail thrashing with amusement.  
  
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Yang said as she looked at the other women. “Alright, well, Korra seemed to find that funny, so truth or dare.” Blake nudged her and she seemed to realize what she’d said, taking a drink and shooting Catra a look of amused annoyance.  
  
“Hmm,” Korra said, swirling her glass in her hand. “I think truth, just to watch you squirm.” Yang gave her a look of utter betrayal but drank anyway. She wasn’t going easy on herself either. Catra noticed that a third of her drink was already gone.  
  
“Well, I know everything about you already,” Yang said. Korra barked out a laugh.  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“I know so!”  
  
“Alright then, give your question to Adora. Let her ask me something.” Inspiration lit up her blue eyes. “Then _you_ have to guess what _I’ll_ say. Get it wrong and you drink. Deal?”  
  
“How do I know you’ll tell the truth?” Blake nudged her and gave her a look. Yang groaned and drank again. Catra’s tail flicked with amusement.  
  
“That’s the whole game, Yang,” Korra said. “Be honest (Yang gave her a grateful look) and do the dares. I can pinky-promise you if it’ll make you feel better.” The group laughed and Yang relented. Korra turned towards Adora.  
  
“Your question then,” she said. Adora puzzled a moment. A thought occurred to her and she took a fortifying drink.  
  
“Alright, in the name of getting Yang hammered, here’s something she definitely won’t know.” She smirked. “When was the last time you had sex?”  
  
Yang threw her fist in the air triumphantly and Korra groaned out loud. That was odd, Catra thought, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. “This morning!” Yang said, throwing a look full of meaning at Korra who rolled her eyes, blushing a little. Catra glanced at Asami, but she just looked amused. Not that Catra thought she was anything but comfortable with herself and her body. Asami was one of those people who just seemed too well put-together to even exist, and very little seemed to phase her. Maybe being one of the world’s youngest CEOs was just more stressful than any petty thing life could throw at her.  
  
“There’s got to be a story there,” Adora said. She, like Catra, thought there was something odd about the whole exchange. Yang and Korra looked at them, slightly panicky expressions on their red faces. Both of them were sputtering excuses before Asami spoke up, her amused look deepening.  
  
“It was my fault. I was being a little too...enthusiastic early this morning. Yang overheard us on her way out for her run.” There wasn’t a trace of shame on her flawless face. Yang and Korra both corroborated the story, though Catra still felt like there was something they weren’t telling her.  
  
_They’re all lying to you,_ Zella’s voice whispered. _They’re all pretending to like you. Who would like you? They’re just putting up with you because Adora pities-_  
  
_Shut up!_ She told herself. She saw Adora’s drink in her hand and part of her felt like trying to drown out her foster mom’s taunting whispers. The impulse only lasted a minute. She slipped a hand into her pocket and brushed against the small medallion she carried there, rubbing against the number three minted onto its surface.  
  
_Don’t let her beat you,_ she thought to herself. _She was always wrong about you._  
  
“Dare!” she heard Adora say, bringing her back to the game. She watched her take a drink as Korra pondered.  
  
“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you two be couple-y at all since you moved in,” she said raising an eyebrow suggestively at the pair of them on the couch. “So, I dare you to show us some PDA.” Catra bristled as Yang and Blake catcalled, Yang a little more enthusiastically. Asami was shaking her head, but her eyes were sparkling.  
  
Adora turned to her and gave her a look. On the surface, she just smiled at her, but she could see concern in those perfect blue eyes. She was checking to make sure it was okay with her. Catra was flushed, her face hot, but she tried to put on an air of nonchalance. Apparently Adora’s question had set the tone for a slightly racey game, so all things considered, this was pretty tame.  
  
So Catra did what she always did when she felt awkward or uncomfortable - she took control of the situation.  
  
She took Adora by the chin and dragged her close to her, closing the distance between them as she kissed her. _Really_ kissed her. She pushed the thought of the other women in the room from her mind and focused only on Adora’s soft, warm mouth. She sucked on her lower lip for good measure, drawing a hiss of delight from her as her fangs bit into her ever so slightly. She swiped her tongue across the places where she’d jabbed her, then drew back, giving her one more quick peck for good measure.  
  
She was blushing furiously when they parted, but she tried to keep her expression dignified as she sipped her soda, noting with some pleasure that Adora had to be just as red as she was.  
  
“That was _hot_ ,” Yang said, and the laughter that followed the exclamation once again helped ease the knot of tension in Catra’s chest.  
  
Asami crossed one long leg over the other. She had decided on a skirt for the evening, and Catra berated herself for watching her pale skin as it moved very distractingly. “So Blake,” she said, her green eyes looking mischievous, “do you want to pay me now, or later?”  
  
Blake’s ears flattened against her head and she turned pink. “Seriously? In front of them?”  
  
“In front of them, what?” Adora said looking between the two. Asami just winked at Adora.  
  
“Guess you’ll have to ask to find out,” she teased.  
  
“Guess I will,” Adora said. “Truth or dare.” (Yang took a drink.)  
  
“Hmm...dare,” Asami said, bouncing one foot slightly as she took a drink from her glass. Only then did Catra realize she must have been drinking whatever she was drinking straight. She had significantly less of it than most people, her tumbler half full of some deep amber liquid.  
  
_Well that’s distractingly sexy_ , she thought, blinking a few times as Adora made a frustrated noise beside her.  
  
“Well, since you got a peep show into our private lives, it’s only fair that we get one into yours,” Adora said with a grin. That was slightly worrying. Catra didn’t know if they would win if they got into a game of relationship chicken with Korra and Asami.  
  
Asami arched an eyebrow. How was she so good at that? Did she practice or something? “I’ll gladly kiss Korra if you like,” she said, a teasing smile on her ruby red lips.  
  
“Nah,” Adora said. “You guys make out around here all the time.” Which wasn’t, strictly speaking, true. The other two couples of the house were more comfortable with semi-public affection, sure, but making out was an over exaggeration.  
  
Asami’s smile broadened. “So how far would you like me to take this…?” The question was pointed, and Catra watched as she began to rub her leg against Korra’s shoulder, who was blushing. Catra was too, though she didn’t want to dwell too deeply on why.  
  
“Kiss her neck,” Adora said. “One minute on the clock.”  
  
Asami licked her lips, her green eyes sparkling. “Done,” she said. She took another sip from her glass and stood. “I’ll need your assistance, love,” she said to Korra, extending her hand. Korra took it and let Asami help her to her feet. She pushed her back into the armchair. Then, with a glance at Adora and Catra, hiked up her skirt a bit so that it rode high on her thighs. Catra’s eyes widened and she felt herself turning even redder. She didn’t dare look at Adora.  
  
Asami straddled Korra, sliding into her lap with ease. “Somebody should time me,” she said, without looking around. “I have a tendency to get distracted.” Then her lips were on Korra’s neck. She kissed her deeply, seemingly completely oblivious to the four women watching with various expressions of fascination. Catra’s heart was beating far too quickly as she honed in on those sinfully red lips as they sucked and kissed Korra’s dark skin. Korra gasped as Asami kissed her, winding her arms around her, holding fast to her shirt. Catra watched her expression, watched her eyes slide closed as Korra let Asami kiss her, then focused back on every little thing Asami was doing.  
  
Catra saw a flash of white teeth and Korra let out a little whine. Catra thought she felt Adora shiver next to her, but she couldn’t be sure. She realized she was rubbing her tail against Adora’s leg. She could feel warmth burning somewhere in her stomach. This was...hot, she decided. Very hot. Which was a little distressing.  
  
_Does Adora wish that was her?_ an insecure voice in the back of her mind asked.  
  
_Of course she does,_ Zella’s voice answered. _Look at her. How could you ever hope to compare?_  
  
Catra bit her lip. She risked a glance at Adora. She was red-faced, one hand on her neck. Catra felt a twinge of jealousy she forced to the back of her mind.  
  
_She loves me,_ she told herself. _And even if she_ did _want Asami, she’s taken. Very taken_ .  
  
Yang cleared her throat as an alarm on her phone sounded. Asami didn’t withdraw right away. She planted a few more very deliberate kisses on Korra’s neck, then climbed off of her. She adjusted her skirts, then, with incredible poise and dignity, sat herself on the large couch on the other side of Adora from Catra, taking her glass off the side table as she passed it. She sat down, nestled into the corner, staring at Adora with an incredibly self-satisfied expression.  
  
Korra sat in the chair where her girlfriend had left her, looking a little dazed. Asami’s red, red lipstick had smeared a bit on her neck, but that didn’t obscure the dark marks that she’d left there. She was breathing heavily, and looking at Asami with a kind of fire that even Catra felt. She expected Yang to make some kind of joke, to break the very obvious tension that was filling the room, but she was staring at Asami oddly and didn’t say anything.  
  
“Alright Blake,” Asami said, finally shifting her gaze to where the other faunus sat and shattering the silent tension. She was mostly composed, but her face was a very light shade of pink and her ears stood up a little too straight when Asami said her name. “Truth or dare?” (Yang drank)  
  
She blinked once. “Um, truth. Definitely truth.” (Yang shot Blake a look that said ‘come on!’ then drank twice. Her cup was nearly empty by now)  
  
“No chance you’re going to ask her what you two were betting on, huh?” Adora said, finding her voice.  
  
Asami smiled at her. “I already know that. What I don’t know is where Yang’s favorite place to be kissed is. Besides her lips.” Asami considered that a moment. “Either pair.” Catra felt like her face was going to burst into flame.  
  
“Hey! You can’t ask her questions about me, that’s cheating!” Yang sputtered.  
  
Asami raised an eyebrow again. “Is it? I just asked her a question. If she didn’t know the answer, I’d be left with nothing. It’s a calculated risk.”  
  
Yang folded her arms and muttered something that sounded like, “Calculated risk my ass.” Blake giggled, then stared at Yang, considering the question.  
  
“Her sides and under her arms,” Blake finally said. “The sides of her breasts as well. Though she’s not terribly picky.”  
  
At least there was one person probably blushing more than Catra. Yang looked mortified, Asami satisfied and Blake only mildly apologetic. She sipped her cider and looked at Korra.  
  
“Alright, truth or dare?” Yang finished her drink.  
  
There was a fire in Korra’s eyes as she said, “Dare,” like it was a challenge. She took a big swig of her drink. Nobody had drunk as much as Yang yet, but Korra was definitely the closest.  
  
A slow smile spread across Blake’s lips. “I dare you to get any and everything someone might ask for until the game is over,” Blake said. Korra’s expression went from excited to dumbfounded in an instant.  
  
“Oh come on, I thought we were doing sexy dares!”  
  
Beside Blake, Yang was clutching her sides laughing. She was definitely intoxicated, which obviously made the whole situation funnier for her. Her laughter was infections, though, and Catra could see Adora trying and failing to stifle her own laugh.  
  
“Hey! I’m all out Korra,” Yang said, holding up her empty glass. “Make me another!”  
  
Korra scowled at Yang, then Blake. “I’ll get you back for this, Belladonna,” she grumbled as she stood. Blake’s smile deepend.  
  
“I look forward to it,” she said with a slight purr. Korra flushed as she took Yang’s glass. Asami held her mostly empty tumbler up as well.  
  
“Top mine off, love?” she said innocently, but with a sparkle in her eyes. Korra took her glass less forcefully, bent to accept a light kiss, and then swept off to the kitchen.  
  
Conversation broke out while they waited for her to return. Catra wondered if she was going to spend the whole night blushing. She knew that her housemates were pretty openly affectionate with their partners, but the flirtiness between _everybody_ here was a new experience. Comfortable was certainly the wrong word for how she felt right now, but she also didn’t hate it. So much. Her old life had taught her that expressing anything that wasn’t arrogance, derision, or some other outward display of strength was a weakness that could be exploited. Attraction was a weakness. Affection was a weakness. That had always been how things had been for her. It was how she had survived. Or at least, that was what she had thought.  
  
Asami and Adora were talking and Catra felt another pang of jealousy despite herself. She thought about trying to join into the conversation, but didn’t want to make things awkward. So she settled for wrapping her tail around Adora’s wrist, reminding her she was there. Adora glanced back at the contact, then looked up to meet her eyes. She smiled at her, that beautiful Adora smile. The smile that made Catra feel like she was suddenly the center of the universe. Then she reached back with the hand she’d tied up and intertwined their fingers before returning to her conversation.  
  
_She loves me_ . _Even if I don’t deserve it, she loves me_.

Korra returned a minute later with Yang and Asami’s drinks.  
  
“To tell you the _truth_ ,” she said loudly as she sat back down in the armchair, “this might not be so bad of a dare.” Yang groaned and took a drink. Catra noticed she was no longer gulping the concoction, whatever it was. Korra shot her a vindictive grin before turning her attention to Catra. “Alright, you’re the only one who hasn’t gone, so _truth_ ” - another look at Yang - “or dare?”

Catra pondered a moment. The dares so far had varied from hot to humiliating, and Catra wasn’t sure which one she would have been more uncomfortable with. Truth might have seemed more appealing, but she wasn’t exactly the open-up-your-feelings kind of person if it came to that.  
  
“Um, truth I guess,” she said after a moment’s consideration (Yang took an exasperated drink).  
  
Korra smiled. “So how did you and Adora meet? I love couple stories.”  
  
_Well, shit_ , Catra thought. She looked sideways at Adora who was watching her with a soft look and a fucking cute smile. She was obviously okay with whatever Catra said. She’d back her up. She always did.  
  
But, the point of the game was to tell the truth. And besides, they were all supposed to be friends, right? They wouldn’t judge them too much.  
  
_Keep telling yourself that_ , Zella whispered in her ear. Catra clenched her fingers.  
  
“Actually, we’ve known each other for a really long time,” she said, before she could lose her nerve. “Most of our lives. We, uh, were maybe, kind of, foster sisters.”  
  
Korra raised her eyebrows. “Oh! I didn’t realize.”  
  
“Shit, I didn’t even know you guys were foster kids,” Yang said, slightly louder than was necessary. Adora smiled sheepishly.  
  
“Yeah, it never really came up,” she said.  
  
“Wait a minute,” Yang said looking between the two of them. “Back in college, you used to talk about a girl back home you had a crush on. Did you mean, like, _literally_ back home?”  
  
Catra looked at Adora, her mouth open slightly. She was blushing, but also smiling like crazy. She looked sideways at Catra who felt dizzy for a moment as she looked into those blue eyes, full of unapologetic affection. “Yeah, that was her,” she admitted, squeezing Catra’s fingers. “I’ve loved her for a long time.”

“Wow,” Yang said, drawing the word out. “She had it bad for you, Cat. I couldn’t get this girl to even look at anybody else. Kept saying sappy stuff like she couldn’t picture herself without you, or how she wouldn’t want to ruin her chances with you and stuff like that.”

Catra swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. “You said that?” She seemed to have forgotten other people in the room.  
  
Adora’s blush deepend, but she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, yeah.”  
  
_Well, yeah._ As if Catra had just been another normal girl worth pining over. As if she hadn’t been a junkie living on the streets in the middle of fucking nowhere. As if she hadn’t said horrible things to Adora when she left, or spit hateful words at her the few times she’d visited home. As if she was the kind of person who was worth waiting for.  
  
Tears slid down her cheeks as she pulled Adora into another kiss. It wasn’t the same as before - there was none of the teasing, playful quality she’d had trying to impress the room. She just kissed her because saying words like “I love you,” or “thank you,” or “I don’t deserve someone who literally never gave up on me when I was worth less than nothing,” just didn’t seem adequate. She tried to put all of those feelings, all of those emotions into that one kiss. She kissed her deeply, passionately, crying silent tears as she did.  
  
Only when they broke apart did Catra notice the catcalls and the ‘awwws’ around them. She and Adora were both breathing hard and practically glowing red.  
  
“You guys are so cute,” Yang said, and there was a general murmur of agreement around the room. Adora ignored them, cupping Catra’s cheeks in her hands and wiping her tears away gently. She nuzzled into her touch.  
  
She glanced past Adora and saw Asami on the other side of the couch watching her. There was an expression of careful consideration on her face, and Catra suddenly felt the weight of the room’s attention more acutely.  
  
“Right, I, uh, guess it’s my turn,” Catra said, fumbling to wipe the tears still staining her cheeks. It startled her to think that this had only been one round of this stupid little game. She was already blushing like crazy, more than a little turned on, and had cried in front of the whole room.  
  
_What the actual fuck did I get myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anybody cares what D&D builds everyone was playing:
> 
> Adora: Warlock, Celestial Patron, Pact of the Blade/Barbarian multiclass
> 
> Catra: Assassin Rogue who started taking Ranger when she got bored
> 
> Blake: Thief Rogue
> 
> Yang: Champion fighter with a homebrewed unarmed fighting style
> 
> Korra: Way of Four Elements Monk
> 
> Asami: Artillerist Artificer
> 
> They are around level nine.


	2. Girl's Night, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth or Dare continues. As things start to heat up, Catra has to confront her own fears and insecurities.

Catra was given a moment’s reprieve by the arrival of the monster who lived in the house.    
  
Naga, Korra’s massive white beast of a dog, came padding into the living room, seeking out her mama. As much as Catra  _ loathed  _ dogs, even she had to admit that Naga wasn’t so bad. She was incredibly well-behaved, affectionate without being overbearing, and something of a mascot for the household. She padded over to the chair Korra was sitting in and sat on her haunches, putting her huge head in Korra’s lap. She scratched her behind the ears as Naga looked up at her expectantly.   
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, is it time to go out?” Korra asked. Naga’s ears perked up and she started wagging her tail. Korra laughed. “Alright guys, time out,” she said getting to her feet. She was slightly unsteady on her feet. Catra didn’t know what was in the mixed drink she, Yang and Adora were consuming, but knowing Yang had a hand in its creation, it was probably pretty strong. Korra whistled and the hundred and twenty pound monster rushed for the front door, Korra close on her heels.    
  
The distraction gave her the opportunity to excuse herself to the restroom. She wanted to see how stupid she looked after crying in front of every damn person in her house. She leaned over the bathroom counter in the downstairs guest bath. Her eyes weren’t that red, and she didn’t wear much makeup to streak. She felt like an idiot. It had taken her off guard, the knowledge that Adora had thought she was worth mentioning while she was away in her fancy school. The scars on her arm seemed to burn with phantom pain. How many nights had she sat up, wondering if Adora ever thought of her? Wondering if Adora cared about her? She’d rationalized that she couldn’t care that much about her if she’d left her. She’d told herself Adora would never feel the things for her that she herself felt for Adora.    
  
She couldn’t let herself get caught up in that line of thinking for too long or she’d start crying again. She didn’t want to look weak, or foolish. She didn’t want to look like some weepy, emotional little girl who couldn’t handle herself.   
  
_ Nobody said anything, though _ , she thought.  _ Maybe they don’t care if you show your feelings.  _ Could that be true? Could she afford it if it wasn’t?   
  
_ They’re not like the people back home. Not like Zella. Not like...him. They’re better than that. _ She tried to let that thought comfort her as she flushed the toilet unnecessarily and washed up, splashing a little bit of water across her face.    
  
Korra had returned by the time she got back. She noticed Asami talking to Adora again, one hand casually resting over the back of the couch. A hateful part of Catra wanted to sit down between them and interrupt their conversation. She chastised herself for the impulse. She was being stupid, Adora was allowed to talk to other people. Even the rich, beautiful and incredibly successful Asami.    
  
“Alright Cat!” Yang said, as she took her old seat. “Let’s get this show back on the road!”

She was scratching her right arm as she said it, and Catra's attention was drawn, as she had been a few times over the past few weeks, to the long, ugly looking scar on her forearm. She was very curious about it. Yang never tried to hide it or intentionally cover it up. It wasn't like Catra's own scars, many and straight, but it made her feel an odd kinship with Yang. She wanted to ask her about it before, but she'd taken Catra's dare instead. She would probably do the same thing now. So, she turned instead to Blake.    
  
Catra smirked. “Okay then. Blake, truth or dare.” Yang had to be reminded to drink by Korra.   
  
She had been hoping that in the game’s pause, Blake would forget that she and Adora were trying to figure out what she’d been betting on with Asami, but her amber eyes were a little too knowing as she said, “Dare.”   
  
Adora groaned in frustration. Catra glanced at her glass and saw that it was three-quarters gone. “You guys are the worst, you know that?” she said, looking between Blake and Asami. The latter had her usual look of unflappable amusement on her face.   
  
“Well, your dares have no teeth,” Blake said with a teasing smile. “Why would I choose truth?” Yang scowled at her and drank.

Catra thought for a moment, then her blue-and-gold eyes lit up. “No teeth, eh? Fine.” She just had to make Blake be worried about taking a dare from her and Adora. She could manage that. “I dare you to take off your stockings.”   
  
The room went silent for a moment, then Yang catcalled and Korra whistled. Catra risked a glance at Asami whose look of amusement had deepened, a hint of satisfaction in her pale green eyes.    
  
Catra took that as an encouraging sign and pushed on. “Any time you take a dare from me or Adora, you’ll have to lose something.” Blake liked to project the same air of detached nonchalance that Asami did, but an instinct told her that Blake would be way easier to rattle than Asami. Her theory was supported as she watched Blake turn a light shade of pink as she stood. Like Asami, she was wearing a skirt. It was a little shorter than Asami’s, but she’d complemented it with a pair of thigh-high stockings. She gave Catra a pointed look as she raised one long leg and put it in Yang’s lap. She rolled the stocking down carefully. She was shorter than Asami - they all were - but Catra was pretty sure she had proportionally longer legs. She slid her now bare foot from Yang’s lap and repeated the process with her other stocking. She set them aside and settled back on the couch. This time she stretched her legs out across Yang’s lap, who looked incredibly pleased as she rubbed them absent-mindedly.    
  
“Not bad,” Blake admitted. Her expression was dignified, but her blush didn’t fade. “I suppose in the interest of my dignity then, I’ll ask Adora. Truth or dare?”   
  
Adora frowned. “Aw man, does that mean I can’t ask you?”   
  
“Duh!” Yang said as if everybody had a copy of the truth-or-dare rulebook in their bedroom. “No ask-backs! Asking back? Ask switching? Whatever.”   
  
Adora rolled her eyes. “The worst. The absolute worst,” she said. “Truth.”    
  
Blake paused. “Who asked who out first?” she asked. Catra and Adora exchanged a look, which Korra found very funny.    
  
“Is there one relationship question you guys have a straightforward answer to?” she asked, laughing.    
  
Adora smiled sheepishly. “Probably not.” She sipped her drink. “I guess, technically, Catra asked me out first. Back in high school, before I left, there was a night when Catra asked if I wanted to go out for dinner, just the two of us, and catch a movie or something. It wasn’t the kind of thing we did together - we didn’t really have a lot of money growing up or anything - but she said she’d saved up for a while and that she thought it would be really fun.”   
  
Catra buried her face in her hands. “I still can’t believe you remember that,” Catra mumbled. She'd told Adora about her real intentions about a week after they'd officially started living together, and she had been just as mortified then to find out Adora remembered the whole humiliating debacle as she was now with the retelling. She felt Adora’s hand on her shoulder.   
  
“Of course I do. It was the sweetest thing.” More ‘awwws’ came from the other girls and Catra was pretty sure she could just die of embarrassment now and that would probably be fine.   
  
“I was in full-on useless lesbian mode,” Adora said, and Catra could hear the smile in her voice. “I never even considered that she was into me like that. I was just happy to spend time with her away from home or school. I kept having these crazy impulses to kiss her all night, but I didn’t have the courage.”   
  
“Ugh, everything about you two is so fucking cute I can’t stand it!” Yang said.   
  
“Right?” Korra said. “I’m so happy things worked out for you guys.”   
  
Catra emerged from behind her hands. It was a cute story, sure, but it bellied the tragedy of her life. If Adora had kissed her, if she’d said what she felt, maybe Catra would have left with her to go to Brightmoon. Maybe their lives would have been different.    
  
Of course, Catra could have been more clear about her intentions. When she thought about how close they’d come on that stupid not-date all those years ago, it made her feel like a dagger made of ice was being thrust through her heart.   
  
But going into any of that was definitely beyond the scope of the game. She forced her attention back to Adora, who was looking at Asami meaningfully.    
  
“Alright then, truth or dare Asami,” she said with a smirk.    
  
“Dare,” Asami said, taking a drink. “I should warn you though, I’m not intimidated by threats of nudity.”    
  
“I figured,” Adora said casually. “That’s why I dare you to take off Blake’s top.”   
  
Catra’s eyes widened, a devious smile spreading across her lips. Korra and Yang burst out into laughter and Blake turned scarlett.    
  
“Wait a minute,” she said, but Asami was already getting to her feet and approaching their couch. Blake swung her legs out of Yang’s lap, trying to back into the couch. “Oh come on! That can’t be allowed!” She was definitely flustered, moreso as Asami towered over her.   
  
Asami shrugged. “A dare’s a dare. Are you going to make this easy for me?” There was playfulness in Asami’s tone and posture, but Catra saw something in her eyes that made her shiver. Catra knew that Asami knew that Blake would do what she asked. There was...authority in her gaze. Catra felt her heartbeat quicken.    
  
Blake swallowed, but sat up a little straighter. Asami bent at the waist and grabbed the hem of her shirt. It was a long-sleeved, off the shoulder top in black. Catra was pretty sure Blake didn’t own anything that  _ wasn’t  _ black or white. She let Blake lift her arms so that she could pull the top off of her in one smooth motion, revealing a black lace bra beneath. She folded the shirt and placed it with Blake’s stockings before resuming her seat.    
  
Blake fussed with her short hair, trying to look nonchalant despite practically glowing red. She was blushing so hard, it spread down her neck and her upper chest.  _ That’s a cute look _ , Catra thought privately. The faunus girl was slim and toned, a little like her. In shape without the hard muscle definition that Korra, Yang and Adora had. But unlike Catra, she actually had boobs. Nice looking ones, too.    
  
_ Stop staring at her chest. Stop staring at her chest! _   
  
Catra made herself look away, but nobody else had. The temperature in the room felt like it had gone up a few degrees.    
  
“There,” Adora said, sounding a little out of breath. “Now we’ll see if you’re ready to answer our question next time.” She looked away from Blake and finished her drink. She held her empty glass up to Korra. “Looks like I’m out,” she said, eliciting a groan from Korra as she stood and took the glass. Blake asked for another cider while she was up, and Asami considered the room as they waited.    
  
“Yang’s been left alone for far too long,” she decided, eyes falling on the blonde who was staring at Blake with naked desire in her lavender eyes. “Truth or dare?”   
  
Yang looked at Asami with a calculating expression. After a moment, she said, “Dare.”

Asami smiled, swirling the amber liquid in her cup with one hand. “I don’t think it’s quite fair that all eyes are on Blake. Why don’t you take off your bra? Give us something else to look at.”   
  
Yang’s eyes brightened, a defiant sort of smile on her face. “Ha! If you’re trying to embarrass me, you’re going to have to do  _ way  _ better than that.” She reached behind her back and unhooked the clasp of her bra through her shirt, then pulled one arm in and began to wiggle out of it.    
  
Asami watched her as she did. “Who said I was trying to embarrass you? You’ve just got a nice rack.” Yang flushed a little and Catra’s heart felt like it skipped a few beats. This casually flirty, incredibly confident side of Asami somehow made her even more attractive. That shouldn’t even have been possible, and it definitely wasn’t fair. She looked at Korra as she re-entered the room, giving Blake and Adora their drinks. She wondered if she was jealous that Asami was openly admitting to ogling another girl. Was she just that confident in their relationship? Was it not as big of a deal as Catra was making it out to be? She tried to put herself in Korra's place, imaging Adora giving Yang that dare and not Asami. 

Jealousy, ugly and snarling, roiled in her chest. She clamped down on it, hard, feeling a wave of shame washing through her.  _ Hypocrite,  _ she berated herself.  _ You're doing just as much ogling as anyone. I don't hear you complaining. You're even the one who asked Blake to strip! Besides, you weren't jealous just now, and Adora basically made Blake take her top off!  _

Part of her rationalized that their collective intention had been different, and somehow that mattered. But it was a thin excuse. The truth was, she was a mess inside. The warmth within her was spreading, making her shift uncomfortably, overloaded with her own swirling emotions and conflicted thoughts. She wished she was drinking. She wished she could be just as uninhibited as the others seemed to be, comfortable with herself and her relationship enough to drown out her insecurities. 

But she knew she wasn't.    
  
She forced herself back to reality and looked back over at Yang who had pulled her bra free of her shirt. Of all the girls, Yang was definitely the most well-endowed. The lack of a bra was noticeable as her heavy breasts hung slightly now, and Catra realized she could see the hard tips of her nipples pressed up against the fabric of the shirt. She felt her face heating up again and made herself look away from the couple on the couch and the growing pile of clothes by their feet. Shame, arousal and a twisting kind of guilt burned inside of her with equal strength.    
  
Apparently Yang interpreted her looking away as not wanting to be chosen, since she pointed at her and asked, “Truth or dare?” She took a drink after she spoke.    
  
Catra knew another truth would likely be another relationship question. She also knew that the dare was going to push her comfort zone. She tried to quickly imagine what kind of question Yang might ask. Her mind spun with worst case scenarios, and almost before she realized what she was doing, she chose "dare."

Yang smiled mischievously. “I’ll give you a super easy one,” she said. “All you have to do is make Adora moan.” Catra blushed deeply, but she still felt she got off easy. With the way things were going, Yang’s dare could have certainly been worse.   
  
“Oooh,” Asami said on the other side of the couch. “Good one.”   
  
Catra looked at Adora, trying to maintain a neutral expression while gauging if she was comfortable. She smiled back at her with what was clearly supposed to be a suggestive look. She was wiggling her eyebrows at least, which Catra only assumed Adora  _ thought  _ looked seductive and not just goofy. She was such a dork. But at least Catra knew she was on board. She swiped her tail briefly against her arm.

“How do you know she won’t be faking it?” she asked, making Adora laugh.    
  
Yang shrugged, a gesture that drew attention to her lack of a bra. “Women’s intuition. Besides, Adora’s too much of a stickler about rules to lie.”    
  
Catra had to admit that was true. She tried to smirk, to give off an air of confidence she only kind of felt. “Well, prepare to be disappointed. I don’t think it’s going to take much.” 

"You think so?" Adora asked mischievously. She took another big sip from the new drink Korra had brought her. She had to be feeling it; Adora hardly drank at all since they'd started living together.    
  
"Please, I can play you like a fiddle.”  _ At least, I can if we're alone _ , she thought. Adora had learned early on in the clumsy exploration of their physical relationship that Catra liked feedback. There were probably some reasons rooted deep in her own feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt that made her so eager to know she was doing a good job, but that was neither here nor there. What worried her was the setting. Here, in the living room, with everybody watching them? Catra could feel her heartbeat somewhere in her throat.   
  
Still, she adjusted herself so that she was on her knees next to Adora on the couch. She took her blonde hair in one hand and tilted her head to the side, exposing the skin of her neck. She dragged her rough tongue from her slightly exposed shoulder up to the side of her neck, pausing over one of the larger muscles there. She gave the skin one, two, three slow kisses, then sank her pointed teeth into her deeply.    
  
That should have been enough. Ordinarily, it would have been. Adora  _ loved _ when Catra bit her,  _ really  _ bit her. She’d drawn blood once and Adora had still begged her to keep going. But right now Adora was...biting her lip to keep herself from making a sound. Catra felt the conflicted emotions rising in her again. She wanted more. Here? Really? With all of them watching?   
  
_ Does she want them to watch?  _ Catra kissed the twin marks her fangs had left in Adora’s skin, then began to suck on a spot near it. She made a lovely dark spot on her neck before biting her again, a little harder this time. Adora inhaled sharply, but still held back a moan. Catra let out a little growl of frustration.   
  
_ Fine then, if that’s how you want to play… _ She was blushing furiously, but she kissed her way up Adora’s neck until she was breathing in her ear. She was up higher on her knees now, one hand still in her hair, keeping her head tilted, as the other went to her breast. She flexed her claws, extending them and digging the points into the fabric of her top, just enough to apply little points of sharp pressure. She placed her lips against Adora’s ear, feeling her shiver as she felt Catra’s warm breath wash over her. Then, in the deepest, most sinfully seductive voice she could manage, she breathed two little words into her lover’s ear.   
  
“ _ Hey Adora _ .”   
  
Adora gasped, a low moan breaking free of her lips as she turned and kissed her. The kiss was hungry. Needy. Completely uninhibited. It took Catra off guard as Adora grabbed her flannel shirt, holding her in place. Her eyes widened, then she let them close, enjoying the urgency with which Adora kissed her. Like she wanted her right then and there, onlookers be damned. She was used to making Adora hot - it didn’t make sense, but she wouldn’t question her taste or her misguided belief that Catra was a desirable and sensual partner - but even so this was a little unprecedented. She wondered if the alcohol she could taste on Adora's tongue had anything to do with it.    
  
She broke the kiss, placing a hand on Adora’s chest and pushing her back a little firmly. She was looking at her with wide, dark pupils, breathing heavily. It was a good look on her, Catra was forced to admit.    
  
She became very conscious of how everyone was staring at them at that moment. She glanced over Adora’s shoulder at Asami who had raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her perfect face. “What? Don’t let me stop you,” she said teasingly, which drew a few laughs that helped to break the tension. Catra’s tail thrashed a few times. She stared at Asami, mind racing. Then she settled back in the couch, drawing Adora into her arms. This seemed to surprise her, but she snuggled up next to Catra anyways.    
  
Asami’s gaze didn’t leave hers. Eventually Catra looked away, looking around the room, desperate to put the attention anywhere else. Her eyes fell on Blake who flushed pink as her eyes dipped down to her chest. “I think it’s time we learned what you two were up to,” she said. “Truth or dare?”   
  
Blake sighed. “I’m going to be topless if I choose ‘dare’, aren’t I?”   
  
Catra gave her what she hoped was a wicked smirk. “If you’re lucky.”   
  
Blake sighed again, dramatically. The expression made her chest rise and fall in a way that drew Catra’s eyes again. “Fine then, truth.” Yang took a drink.   
  
“Finally,” Catra said. “Why does Asami want you to pay her?”   
  
Blake rolled her eyes. “We were curious which one of you topped. I thought it had to be Adora. Asami thought it was you.”   
  
“Oh,” Catra said. She felt like she should have said  _ more _ , but her mind had gone completely blank. She was blushing again. Had she really stopped blushing? Her housemates had been speculating about their relationship, about their sex life. That was normal, right? People talked about other people, didn’t they? Catra just never considered herself someone worth talking about.    
  
_ Adora is though _ , and Catra couldn’t have said if that thought had been hers or another of her foster mom’s whispers. Being with Adora might make her worth talking about.    
  
Fortunately, she didn’t have to say much more since Adora spoke up, not lifting herself from where she was resting comfortably against Catra’s chest. “You could tell that after one kiss?” She looked from Blake to Asami who just shrugged.    
  
“She kisses like a top,” Asami said, like that was a normal thing that everybody knew. Of course, with the nods and words of affirmation that they were now getting around the room, Catra got the distinct feeling that everybody  _ did  _ know what a top kissed like. Everybody but her, it would seem.    
  
Catra wouldn’t have said she’d ever sat down and strongly considered her and Adora’s ‘roles’ in that way. She was largely ignorant of LGBTQ culture if she was being perfectly honest with herself. She’d known she was in love with Adora since she was young, but Zella hadn’t been the kind of person she’d felt comfortable sharing her sexuality with, and Catra had never had many friends growing up. It hadn’t been until she had finally gone to Brightmoon with Adora that she really started to explore that part of herself. She supposed she  _ could  _ be considered a top. She liked to be in control. It felt safer than the alternative, at least. And Adora was just such a damn giver in everything she did, that she made it easy.    
  
Her train of thought was derailed as Adora snuggled closer to her. “Well, she does take care of me,” she admitted and Catra felt her heart skip a few beats. If Adora thought that she took good care of her, and that was what made her a top, she supposed she was a top.    
  
Fortunately, the game was moving on now as Blake stared down Korra. “Alright, truth or dare?”   
  
Korra frowned at her. “The last time I did dare, you made me into everyone’s service girl.” Blake smiled.    
  
“Well, given my current situation,” she indicated to her nearly bare chest, “I think it’s in my best interest to be nice to you, wouldn’t you say?”   
  
Korra considered that. “Fine, I’ll play your game Belladonna. Dare.”   
  
Blake’s smile widened. “Since your lovely girlfriend has set the precedent,” Blake began and Asami raised an eyebrow, “why don’t you go over there and take off her underwear?” She paused. “With your teeth.”   
  
Korra’s eyes lit up, and she looked at Asami with a fire that made Catra’s heart race. Catra would have expected Asami to meet that fire with her own cool, unflappable amusement, but to her surprise, she saw the young CEO blush.    
  
“Korra…” she said, warningly as her girlfriend rose and began to stalk towards her.   
  
“Yeah ‘Sami?” Korra said, tauntingly. She sank to her knees at Asami’s feet. Her blush deepened.    
  
“Just...behave yourself,” she said, but she lacked the cool authority she’d had when she’d undressed Blake. All of her poise was gone, seemingly evaporated by the heat in Korra’s eyes.    
  
Korra barked out a laugh as she put her hands on Asami’s knees and eased her legs apart. “That doesn’t really sound like me,” she said before her head vanished up Asami’s skirt.    
  
Asami made a noise that was halfway between distressed and aroused. From the way Korra was moving her head under the skirt, it seemed like she was intent on leaving a few kisses on her girlfriend’s inner thigh. In front of the whole room.    
  
“Korra!” Asami said, breathlessly. “That really wasn’t part of the da-” but she cut herself off, the sentence dissolving into a low groan as Korra did  _ something  _ down there that they couldn’t see. Catra was pretty sure it wasn’t healthy for her heart to be beating as fast as it was. She should probably be more worried about that. 

Once again, Catra found herself in a miasma of conflicted feelings. Fascination and arousal clashed with an inherent jealousy and guilt. She gripped Adora tightly. Should she say something? It was probably vastly too late for that. Glancing briefly around at the other girls, it was clear that she was the only one suffering from such extreme conflict. Yang was cheering Korra on while Blake watched Asami carefully. 

She couldn't blame her for that. Seeing Asami lose her cool was enticing. She was biting her finger, her free hand gripping the couch cushion, digging into the leather material. Her face was flushed, her eyes closed against whatever it was Korra was doing down there. 

Catra definitely wasn't going to consider  _ that  _ too closely. 

After what felt like ages, but in reality was probably less than a minute, she worked her way down Asami's long legs. As she emerged from beneath her skirt, Catra could see a red thong the precise shade of Asami's lips in her teeth. She lifted Asami's legs from the floor so that she could finish pulling off the garment, then held it in the air with a flourish for the others to see. Yang and Blake cheered, and Catra, startled slightly, heard Adora join in with them. 

"Wow!" Adora said. She sounded out of breath. This was turning her on too. Why did that make something hateful squirm in her chest? What right did she have to be jealous when she herself was feeling the same thing? 

_ Because she has options,  _ Zella said.  _ You do not. None of them would take you. But Adora… Well, that's another story entirely, isn't it?  _   
  
_ Shut up, shut up, shut up! _ Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she just be like everybody else for one stupid night?  _ Stop being such an insecure, hateful bitch and relax for once! _   
  
Nobody seemed to notice that Catra was having a momentary crisis, however. Korra had amused them all by sweeping her short hair into a tail, using Asami’s thong as a hair tie, seemingly just to further embarrass her girlfriend. Her hair wasn’t quite long enough to put up all the way, and the result was a cute half-up, half-down look that Catra couldn’t have pulled off even if she spent an hour trying to get it right.    
  
_ They’re all better than you. The only reason Adora doesn’t leave you is because you’re available. Desperate. She’ll have someone like them soon enough, and then they’ll replace you. You’ll see… _   
  
Catra wanted a drink so badly. 

“Points for style,” Blake said approvingly, bringing Catra back to the moment.

Korra sat herself between Asami and Adora. Asami cuddled up to Korra, much like how Adora was leaning on Catra. She looked up at Korra with an expression that was a little admonishing, but in a playful sort of way. The adoration in Asami’s eyes was new - she’d really never seen this side of Asami before. Of course, she rarely saw her and Korra interacting one-on-one either. Of all the housemates, Asami was the most likely to be out late, and she and Korra kept such busy schedules that Catra wondered when they actually managed to spend time together.    
  
_ She really loves her, _ she thought as she watched the pair of them. Korra had one arm thrown casually over Asami, playing with her hair as she considered her next target. She was used to seeing Korra as a boisterous and slightly chaotic force in the house. But just then, she was steady. Centered.  _ It’s like they’re totally different people with each other _ , Catra thought. 

The general touchiness of the room was definitely going up. Blake’s bare legs were back in Yang’s lap. Catra still didn’t know what had possessed her to hold Adora close like this when she was pretty sure they hadn’t even held hands in the presence of the other housemates. Not that that seemed to matter much given the direction the evening had taken. There was a dangerous tension in the room, and as Korra selected Yang for the next target, she felt the sense of danger only growing.   
  
Yang was clearly drunk. She’d gone through at least three of her mixed drinks now and she was looking at Korra with a sense of defiance as she said, “Dare.”   
  
Korra met that defiance with plenty of her own. “I think you’ve teased us all enough. Let’s get that top off.”   
  
Catra expected the dare, but she also expected some resistance from Yang. She was surprised, therefore, when she stripped out of her tank top in one fluid motion, barely hesitating once the dare was issued. Her breasts bounced slightly as they were freed from the tight material and Catra found herself staring shamelessly at her.    
  
Yang was equally shameless in showing off her body. She threw one hand over the back of the couch and used the other to rub Blake’s legs. There was a smouldering look in her eye, as if inviting everyone to stare, as if she  _ wanted  _ to be the center of attention. And most of that smoulder was focused on Korra.   
  
“Like what you see?” she said, a taunting note in her voice.    
  
Korra wasn’t even bothering to meet her eyes. She just stared openly at Yang’s naked chest. Her breasts were almost perfectly shaped, Catra found herself thinking. They sagged slightly from their own weight, but not as much as she would have imagined. Her nipples were pale and pink and very erect - something else Catra focused on. Catra would probably consider herself a ‘boob girl’ if pressed, but it was more of a jealous fascination. She barely found it necessary to wear a bra day-to-day, and when compared to someone like Adora who usually combined sports bras  _ and  _ compression tops when working out, it made her feel distinctly inadequate. Like she was missing out on something that other girls got to experience.   
  
Even now there was a part of her that was picturing straddling Yang’s hips, groping her chest, digging her claws just slightly into them, just enough to make her hiss and squirm like Adora did-   
  
She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the traitorous fantasy from her mind. She should go. This was all too much. She hadn’t signed up for being the only sober girl with a group of drunk, horny twenty-somethings who were vastly more comfortable with their bodies and their relationships than she was with hers. She thought about signaling Adora when Yang asked Asami, “Truth or dare?”   
  
Asami met Yang’s eyes (how exactly? Catra had settled for just not looking at her) and said, “Truth.”   
  
Oddly, Yang’s attention flickered over to her and Adora before returning to Asami. She drank, considering Asami deliberately before speaking, her words slurring just slightly.    
  
“You’ve been looking at our new girls all night,” she said, smiling. “So I’m curious. If you had to kiss one of them, which would it be?”   
  
It was like some kind of warning siren was blaring in Catra’s ears. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to hear how Asami wanted to kiss Adora, because how was she ever supposed to be attracted to her again when someone as perfect as Asami wanted her? How should she expect Adora to settle for her when she realized what kind of women would want her if she wasn’t shackled to-   
  
“Catra,” Asami said, looking directly at her. She’d lifted herself off of Korra a little and was looking at Catra with half-lidded eyes and a sultry expression.   
  
Catra was pretty sure her heart had stopped. Her mind blanked. Her mouth felt dry. She didn’t know what to say. This was a joke, right? Some kind of prank? It had to be. Nobody in their right mind would pick her over Adora. Adora was better than she was. She had always been. Prettier, smarter, funnier, everything. She was second best. Always second best.   
  
_ They want to hurt you,  _ Zella said.  _ They’re lying to you. Always lying. _   
  
There was a roaring in her ears and she couldn’t look at Adora, she  _ couldn’t _ because she didn’t want to see the surprise in her face that must be there. Because she had to be surprised. She had to have been guessing that Asami would have said her and not Catra. She didn’t even really hear Asami as she asked Catra “truth or dare?” She only realized she was talking because her ruby red lips were moving and Catra  _ definitely  _ shouldn’t be looking at those.    
  
The roaring dimmed a little as she heard herself say, “Truth.” She’d picked it because she didn’t want to know what the dare would be. She didn’t want the joke to continue, she didn’t want to give them another reason to laugh at her expense. But she was out of luck. Asami was smiling at her now and it was a  _ sexy  _ fucking smile. It was the kind of thing Adora was always trying to do, but never quite got right. Asami made it look effortless.    
  
“Do you want to kiss me, too?” she asked. Like that was a question. Like every girl here  _ didn’t  _ want to kiss Asami. Even Adora. Probably especially Adora.    
  
She had to look at Adora now. She had turned in her arms and was looking at Catra. She expected anger, or confusion, or jealousy. Definitely some kind of surprise. What she wasn’t expecting was...encouragement? She raised her eyebrows, but she was smiling, as if she found all of this terribly amusing.    
  
“It’s okay if you do,” Adora said.    
  
_ She doesn’t care _ .    
  
If Catra had been a normal person, she would have been able to recognize the trust Adora was extending to her. She would have appreciated that this was all fun and flirty and it was just a stupid game anyways. It wouldn’t impact their relationship at all. And there was a tiny part of her that was saying those things, that was begging Catra to once, just this once, be a normal fucking person and not lose her shit over nothing.    
  
But that part of her was swept away by a desperate, clawing fear. She didn’t  _ want  _ Adora to be okay with it. She didn’t  _ want _ her to look at her like that, like it would be just fine if she said that she wanted to kiss the most desirable person in the room. She wanted her to be  _ furious _ , she wanted her to tell them all that Catra was  _ hers  _ and nobody else’s. The fact that doing so would have been wildly inappropriate didn’t seem to matter to Catra at the moment. She felt like she was drowning. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was too much. Everyone was looking at her. She might have been crying again, or maybe just hyperventilating. Adora was looking confused, Asami concerned. Yang was covering her chest, Blake asked a question she couldn’t hear. Korra looked scared.    
  
_ You’re broken inside _ . It was her own voice that spoke to her this time.  _ What made you think you could fool them into thinking you were whole? _

Catra scrambled out from underneath Adora and shot for the door to the living room, bolting up the stairs as fast as she could. She could hear them calling after her, telling her to wait, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let them see her break down. Shame. Guilt. Jealousy. Self-loathing. Anger. They all pulsed through her, winds of a storm that she was caught up in. Her heart was racing. Tears flowed from her as she burst into her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and threw herself onto the bed, letting panic swallow her whole. She heard herself sobbing. Deep, chest-wrenching sobs as she buried her face in her pillow. She didn’t know what she was crying about. She hated that she was like this. She was ruining it, ruining everything. And yet she couldn’t stop.    
  
She didn’t hear the door open, but she felt when Adora sat on the bed next to her. She didn’t look up until Adora put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched away, staring up at her, tears streaking her face.    
  
Adora looked concerned, apologetic even. Why? She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was Catra who was a mess, not her. She tried to compose herself. She forced down the painful sobs, clamped down as hard as she ever had on the torrent of self-hatred. She rose to her knees, not able to look Adora in the eye. Shame pulsed through her chest with every heartbeat.    
  
“I’m sorry,” Adora said. Catra gritted her teeth. “I shouldn’t have agreed to play, it was my-”   
  
“Shut up!” Catra snapped, looking at Adora. She must have looked crazed. Fury was a safer emotion than shame, so it flared within her. “Just shut up already!” Adora’s eyes widened and she drew back from her. Catra felt a stabbing guilt in her stomach. She was a wounded animal. All she could do was hurt.    
  
“I’m  _ yours _ ,” she said and she heard her voice break when she said it. “Do you hear me? Yours!!” She was hysterical, some part of her knew, but it felt better to be angry than to feel the horrible shame. “Fight for me, goddammit!”   
  
“Catra, it wasn’t-” but whatever it wasn’t, Catra didn’t know. She took Adora’s face in her hands and kissed her, hard. It was frightened and desperate. She wanted to kiss her so that she  _ couldn’t  _ leave her, the ache of despair in her chest battling it out with hot, unjustified anger. She tangled her hair in her fingers, claws slicing through the tie that held her hair in place. It spilled over her shoulders as Catra kissed her. Adora didn’t try to pull away, but she also didn’t contribute much. She was trying to let Catra have what she needed. Because that was what Adora always did. She always gave. And gave. And gave.   
  
_ She even tried to give you away. _   
  
But that wasn’t what Catra wanted. She wanted her to  _ take _ . She wanted Adora to claim her, to make sure the whole world knew that Catra was off limits, that she was  _ Adora’s _ . She bit her lower lip and heard Adora cry out in pain as she tasted blood. She pushed Catra away, one hand on her lip. But Catra wasn’t finished. She straddled her hips and began to savage her neck. Her hands wrapped around her and her claws dug into Adora’s back, making her hiss.    
  
“Catra, please,” she said. Some rational part of Catra’s brain told her that she was hurting her, but her addled mind took her plea as a desire for more. She dug her nails in deeper, sank her fangs into her neck, sucking hard, wanting to mark her. Another cry of pain from Adora made shivers run down her spine.    
  
“I’m  _ yours _ ,” Catra said again, and she could feel hot tears running down her cheeks as she said it. She released Adora and sat up enough to shrug out of her flannel, stripping off her tank top and leaving herself bare-chested, the flannel shirt still tied off around her waist. “I’m yours!” she repeated. “Want me! Don’t let me go, please don’t let me go.” She reached for Adora, to undress her, to mark her again, she wasn’t sure. But Adora grabbed her wrists and, with her superior strength, flipped them over in the bed so that she was on top of Catra, pinning her hands up over her head.    
  
“Catra!” she said, her expression filled with fear and concern. Her unbound hair fell around her face, framing her blue eyes. “I’m here, okay? I’m not letting you go. I’m here with you, but I need you to calm down.” There were tears on her cheeks as well, Catra noticed. She didn’t try to struggle against her grip. She tried to do as Adora said. But letting go of the anger just brought the shame back and she felt hot tears stinging her eyes.    
  
Her gaze fell on Adora’s neck. There was a deep, ugly bruise on it where Catra had practically attacked her. She could see two darker points where she’d bit her so hard. Adora also had a bruise on her lip, which was smeared with her own blood. The shame came back in force and Catra looked away, sobbing once again.    
  
Adora released her wrists. She lay down on the bed next to Catra and drew her into her arms, holding her tight against her chest. Catra pressed her face against Adora, holding onto her like a drowning woman. She cried. And she cried. Adora was stroking her back, telling her everything would be okay. It wouldn’t. Catra knew it. It wouldn’t because she was a broken person.

_ You’re holding her back _ , Zella said.  _ You’ll always hold her back _ .

Catra didn’t try to argue. It was true. She was a burden. She was a weight in Adora’s life that she had to deal with. And yet, she couldn’t leave her. She couldn’t take the pain of that. She wasn’t sure she’d survive it.    
  
_ Selfish. Weak.  _   
  
She wished she was high. The marks and scars on her right arm itched. She wished she didn’t have to feel, didn’t have to think. She wished she could just ride that wave of bliss one more time.    
  
She cried until she was out of tears. She cried until she was numb. She cried until her bleeding, shredded heart finally slowed to a normal pace. And Adora never once let her go.    
  
_ You don’t deserve her _ , Zella whispered as blackness began to take her.    
  
And as she slipped away into fretful unconsciousness, Catra knew that she was right.   


* * *

“Well, that definitely could have gone better,” Korra said. She’d taken her hair down, returning Asami’s thong. There had been a collective sobering up after Adora had left, saying she was going to go check on Catra. Asami was pretty sure neither of them would return.    
  
“It’s my fault,” Asami said. She felt bad for her part in Catra’s departure. She’d gotten carried away, crossed some invisible line she hadn’t been aware of.    
  
“It is not,” Yang said. She’d pulled her tank top back on, toying with her bra in her hand. “If anything, it’s my fault. I should never have suggested this dumb game in the first place.”   
  
“We shouldn’t have started drinking in the first place,” Blake said sensibly. She’d put her top back on, but left her stockings off. “Or at least, we should have stopped when Catra said she was sober.” 

Asami sat back, staring at the mostly-finished glass of bourbon beside her. She’d been feeling quite pleasantly drunk a moment ago, but now the sluggishness in her mind frustrated her. Despite what the others were saying, she still felt as though she should have been able to read Catra better. That was supposed to be what she was good at - controlling the situation, knowing where everyone’s limits were and how best to accommodate them. It was why she was the house domme.   
  
She felt Korra rubbing her shoulder. She looked at her blue eyes and saw understanding there. “It’s really not your fault ‘Sami,” she said. “You didn’t know how she’d react.”   
  
“I should have,” she said quietly. “I could see something in her. I thought she just needed to feel accepted, that maybe that would make her feel comfortable but...I think it’s a little deeper than that.”   
  
“No kidding,” Yang said, looking at the door Catra and Adora had left through.

There was a pause. Then, Korra spoke up. 

"So what do we do now? We were supposed to tell them tonight." 

"We should have just told them from the beginning," Yang said. "Adora knows I'm poly, we talked about it in college. She was totally fine with it then! She even said she might be interested if it weren't for that girl she was hung up on." 

"We didn't tell them because we didn't want them to feel weird or uncomfortable knowing that the rest of the damn house was in a relationship," Blake said. "They were desperate for a place to stay, they didn't need to feel like there were strings attached to living here."    
  
“So what are we going to do?” Korra asked again, looking at her girlfriends. “Do we tell them? Or do we keep up the act?”   
  
Asami raised an eyebrow. “Are we keeping up an act? Or did you two actually have sex this morning?” Yang, at least, had the courtesy to blush.    
  
“It had been a while!” she said. “I wasn’t planning on it, I just came by your room to see if Korra wanted to go for a run, and she was up and just getting changed and it kind of...happened.”   
  
Asami fixed her with a hard stare. “Are you telling me you had sex in  _ our  _ room? Without waking me up?” She looked at Korra who looked completely unabashed.    
  
“I thought it’d be fun to see if we could,” she said with a grin. Asami flushed.   
  
“The pair of you, honestly,” Asami said, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

Yang squirmed. “Are you going to punish us?” she asked. Asami could see a hint of excitement in her lilac eyes. She could hear the anticipation in her voice. There was only so long you could keep Yang focused on something other than sex when she was intoxicated, no matter what else was going on. She sat up straight and looked into her eyes.    
  
“I’m not. But maybe, if you’re lucky, Blake will do it for me.” She eyed Blake and an understanding passed between them. Asami wasn’t in the mood to dom tonight. She didn’t feel like she could be trusted. And besides, the thought of Catra fleeing the room was still fresh in her mind, as were the questions of whether or not they should tell their new housemates about their...unique situation.   
  
But, they weren’t about to come to a rational conclusion on that front, especially with everyone in various levels of drunk and horny. Blake stood and snapped her fingers. “You heard Miss Sato,” she said to Yang. “You’re all mine tonight.” Yang seemed happy enough with that and let Blake lead her from the room as they went up to their bedroom together.    
  
Asami leaned back on the couch and finished her bourbon. No point letting it go to waste. Korra took her hand and she let her weave their fingers together. She smiled up at her. She loved all of her girlfriends, but there was a reason Korra was her primary. She understood that even the caretaker needed to be cared for sometimes.    
  
“You really like her a lot, don’t you?” Korra said. Asami didn’t have to ask who she meant.    
  
“It’s been a while since I was crushing this hard, yeah,” she admitted, blushing slightly. “She’s just so...fiery. She’s witty and so fucking cute, and have you _ seen  _ her eyes? They’re mesmerizing.”   
  
Korra pulled her close. “I like her too,” she admitted. “I like both of them.”    
  
Asami let Korra wrap her arms around her. She felt so safe with Korra. It had been terrifying enough when she’d first fallen for her all those years ago. Back then, she hadn’t known if Korra had even liked women. When they started dating, she just figured that she could accept what she had, and bury the part of her that felt a desire for others. She’d never told anyone before. She’d accepted that she would never get to experience that part of her, and had almost made peace with that.    
  
And then she’d fallen in love again. She hadn’t expected someone like Yang to come into their lives. So brash, so open about every aspect of her sexuality, including her polyamory. And Korra had accepted her. She’d wanted to know more. Asami had let Yang explain for her while she listened, without judgement. And even still it had taken Asami another week to work up the courage to come out to her girlfriend about her own feelings.    
  
Korra’s acceptance of her had been so easy, so complete, that it still sometimes brought tears to Asami’s eyes to think about. After being so afraid to share all of herself with anybody, Korra came along and allowed her to let down every one of her walls and still find love and acceptance waiting for her.    
  
Shortly after that, they’d started dating Yang. Things had only hit a snag when Yang’s ex, Blake, came back into their lives after an extended absence. Things were rocky for a little while, and there had been times when Asami thought that their life together would be over. But Yang and Blake ended up making amends, and then three had become four.    
  
It was greedy to think that their four might grow to six, Asami knew that. But after everything Yang had said about Adora’s openness towards their lifestyle, she had dared to think it would be possible.    
  
“I wish I knew what I did wrong earlier,” Asami mused. “I could try and fix it if I knew.”   
  
“You could ask her,” Korra said.   
  
“Maybe,” Asami said. “But I don’t know if she’d tell me. She’s not terribly open with anyone besides Adora.”   
  
Korra shrugged. “Spend a little time with her then. Ask her out or something.”   
  
Asami raised her eyebrow and Korra continued. “Not, like, you know, explicitly a romantic date or anything. Just take her out, one on one. Get to know her. That’s how we did things with Blake, remember? We dated her individually for a while, let her get to know us.”   
  
“That still feels a little manipulative when they don’t know about us,” she said.    
  
Korra shook her head. “Look, you like her, right?” Asami nodded. “And even if you and I were exclusive to each other, you’d still want to get to know her better, wouldn’t you?” She nodded again. “Then there’s nothing manipulative about it. Just be her friend. If you ask me, it seems like she needs that right now.”   
  
Asami did agree with that. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “If she’ll even look at me after tonight. I don’t know what I was thinking.”   
  
“You were thinking that you were a couple drinks in and you wanted to kiss the very cute faunus girl you’d been staring at all night,” Korra said with wry amusement. “I honestly thought that Yang’s massive crush on Adora was going to cause problems first, but you surprised me.” Asami blushed, smiling sheepishly.    
  
“You got me all riled up,” she said nudging Korra in the ribs with her elbow. “There is no way it took you  _ that  _ many tries to get a good grip on my underwear.”   
  
Korra just grinned at her. “Come on, we should get to bed. We’ll clean up the rest of this crap in the morning. Asami nodded and let Korra help her to her feet.    
  
_ Just be her friend _ , she thought. She could do that. She could be there for her, get to know her. She’d make sure she made whatever she’d done wrong tonight right, no matter what. 

_ If she’ll let me _ .

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anybody was curious, Adora and Catra's foster mom's name is Zella Weaver. Yes, Zella means shadow. It also means that Adora and Catra's surname is Weaver. 
> 
> Korra also has a surname - Atka. It's inuit for "guardian spirit." 
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! As always, feedback is very much appreciated. Until next time!


	3. The Cat and the Blonde, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter with one of her housemates catches Catra off guard and forces her to make some difficult decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was kind of difficult to write, so apologies for the delay. It kept growing and growing until it was a massive thirty-page beast of a chapter, so I ended up cutting it in half. Fortunately, that means that the next chapter should be a pretty quick turnaround.
> 
> Also big thanks to my beta, Skadiwolfe13 for giving me feedback and making me look good!

“Thank you all for coming today. I see a few new folks with us, so for those of you I haven’t met yet, my name is Qrow. I’ve been with the program for a couple of years now, and I’m a recovering alcoholic.”   


The group of twenty or so people sitting in the circle of folding chairs greeted him with a mostly unison chorus of ‘hi Qrow’. Catra didn’t join them. She was about a quarter of the way down the circle from where the speaker was sitting. She was crouched in her chair - she often found it more comfortable than sitting - arms wrapped around her knees and tail curled around one ankle. She’d found an odd discoloured spot on the linoleum tiled floor of the small room in the Republic City Community center, and she was staring at it, using her imagination to craft it into different images. 

The man continued to speak, going over the usual stuff the group leaders went over. When they met, how to stay up to date on meeting places and other resources people could use in an emergency if they needed them. Qrow didn’t lead every AA meeting she attended, but he did do a fair amount of the smaller ones. He was tall and lanky, with a pretty laid back demeanour. He wore his black hair longer on top and he was going grey at the temples. He perpetually looked like he could use a shave, and yet, despite his sloppiness in some regards, his red eyes were always sharp and perceptive. He was...fine, Catra thought as she sipped tasteless coffee from a small paper cup. At least he wasn’t one of the super peppy group leaders. Those got on her nerves fast.    
  
“Now, if there are any new people who feel like they would like to introduce themselves, you can speak up now.” A small handful of people Catra didn’t recognize raised their hands, and deciding she’d finally avoided looking at people longer than was polite, she watched with the rest of the group, greeting the newcomers along with the rest of the circle.    
  
She tried not to retain much of the information she heard from anybody. Besides the fact that she already wasn’t the best with names, it felt to her like the whole point of Alcoholics  _ Anonymous _ was so that you didn’t have to worry about people in the real world knowing who and what you were. She was being polite, that was all. Definitely not dissociating from the experience because it was uncomfortable, absolutely not.    
  
There were a couple new faunus in the group this week. It put Catra in slightly less of the minority, though the humans present still outnumbered them significantly. She gripped the edge of her chair with her toes, flexing her claws. She’d looked a few times to see if there were all-faunus support groups, but it seemed that the faunus in Republic City were simply too under-represented to make such a thing viable. Cities were a place for humans, and Republic City was no different, no matter how progressive it tried to be.   
  
The intros wrapped up, and Qrow was speaking again. “Today, I’d like to have an open group discussion,” he said. He reached for his belt and hooked a thumb into it. Catra had seen him do it before. It was some old habit, she imagined. Like he was reaching for something that wasn’t there anymore. “I’d like us to talk about temptation. It’s something we all face every day. Just by being here, you’ve admitted that temptation is something you can’t overcome on your own. But that’s okay. It’s important to remember that you’re not alone. All of the people here right now have faced some form or another of the problems you have. Some of us have family members or friends who support us. Others aren’t so lucky. So it’s our responsibility to make sure that everybody here has those people that they can reach out to. People who can help them resist the temptations that we face every day, every hour sometimes.”   
  
There was a lot of nodding at Qrow’s words, and Catra could see some of the members already becoming emotional. Great. The weepy ones always made it hard for Catra. She mentally kicked herself.    
  
_ Just because they don’t treat their emotions like they’re something to be ashamed of, doesn’t make them worse than you. _   
  
Guilt and shame had been her constant companions all morning. She’d slept terribly the night before, waking almost every hour. Part of her had wanted to wake Adora, who had slid out from under her after she’d cried herself to sleep and changed for bed, but she hadn’t even known how to begin to apologize. Sometimes she’d just hold her as she tried to fall asleep again. Other times, she’d roll as far away as possible, knowing that she didn’t have the right to be close to her after the way she’d behaved.    
  
She’d been awake when Adora’s phone had buzzed sometime around eight. That had gotten her out of bed, but Catra had pretended to stay asleep. She listened to her get dressed, then write something on a piece of paper, and kiss Catra on the head before leaving. The thought of the kiss still made her chest ache, as did the note Adora had left.   
  
_ Going for a run with Korra and Naga. I’m sorry things got a little out of hand last night. I want you to know that I will never let you go, okay? We can talk more about it later if you want, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I hurt you.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I love you. I’ve always loved you. _

_ \- Adora _

She was sorry. She had nothing to be sorry about. It was Catra’s fault, always her fault. She was the one who had ruined the fun night, she was the one who’s insecurities wouldn’t even let her play a stupid game of truth or dare.    


_ She deserves better than you _ .   
  
She’d ripped off the blank half of the paper and left her own note, scribbled hastily.   
  
_ You didn’t do anything wrong. Sorry I was such a bitch. I’ll try to make it up to you. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Gonna go out for a bit. I have a meeting later anyways. I’ll see you this afternoon. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I love you too. _

_ \- Catra _ _   
_ _   
_ Adora’s half of the note was still in the pocket of her favorite jeans. She’d had them for long enough that they were more like cotton than denim, and the torn knees made it easier for her to crouch when she sat. She’d finished dressing in her tank top from the night before and a baggy hoodie that was probably a little too warm for late spring weather, but it made her feel more secure.    
  
She listened as Qrow went around the circle, inviting people to share moments of temptation that they’d faced from their own lives. Moments where they had resisted, and moments when they hadn’t. It was all part of the process, he claimed. It was just as important to reflect on your failures as it was to celebrate your successes. Catra had a hard time with both, but she supposed that was why she was here. 

She spun her green medallion in her fingers as people told their stories. She’d long ago memorized all the imperfections in the textured metal coin. She rubbed her thumb against the raised number three on its surface, worn smooth by countless others who had doubtlessly done the same over and over and over again. Three months. She tried to believe that it was an accomplishment, and not a scarlet letter stitched across her chest. She was supposed to get a new one today. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Sure, she'd faced temptation or whatever last night, and sure, she'd stayed sober. But she had to be  _ her  _ about it. She couldn't do it without a fair amount of self-destruction. She couldn't do it without hurting the one person who meant the most to her in the world. Not to mention looking like an idiot in front of all of her friends.   


The person beside her sat down, and Catra felt the weight of the room’s attention on her. She glanced up at Qrow, who was looking at her with a little smile that Catra could swear at times seemed familiar. He gave her that look that she knew to be his silent invitation to speak. Maybe she should take the on-the-nose nature of the topic as a sign. Maybe she should share just a little of her crippling doubt and fears. 

But she didn't. She shook her head and looked away. She caught a momentary glimpse of disappointment in Qrow's eyes before he moved on to the woman next to her. One more person to let down. 

She tried to be a little more attentive as a few more people shared stories. Only three more people spoke before it came back around to Qrow. He led them through a few affirmations, and then they would be all wrapped up. Catra felt guilty. She should have said something. She never had before. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered coming to these things. 

_ Next time,  _ she thought to herself. But Zella's voice chuckled in the back of her mind. 

_ Next time, exactly. Just like you said last week. And the week before that. When will you stop lying to yourself?  _

People were standing around Catra. The meeting was over. She helped pick up a couple of chairs and tossed her empty paper coffee cup. Some of the members were getting coffee to go, or talking softly to each other. A few seemed to be exchanging information or making plans together. Catra wasn't one of them. 

She stood a little apart from Qrow who was speaking to a faunus with brilliant macaw's plumage in her hair. She stayed far enough away that even she couldn't eavesdrop, which was helped by the low tones they spoke in. Only when she left did she approached Qrow. 

"Hey," she said, not quite meeting his eye. "I'm, um, supposed to give you this I think." She handed him the medallion. He frowned, and she realized her mistake. 

"No, not because I slipped up. It's been four months. Well, a couple days ago I guess it was four months." Qrow's look of concern vanished. 

"Not bad," he said, gesturing her over to a small foldable table in the back. He opened a small box next to a folder and some papers. He dropped her medallion in and pushed a few aside until he found the one he wanted. He took a purple coin from the box and tossed it to her. Catra caught it easily, eyeing the number four minted on the front. 

"You should be proud of that," Qrow said. "Took me well over a year to get mine. Kept ‘slipping up,’ as you put it." He made the same gesture he had earlier, reaching for his belt and hooking his thumb into it. Some instinct connected the dots for Catra. 

"You used to wear a hip flask there, didn't you?" she asked cautiously. She probably shouldn't have asked, but she was naturally pretty curious, something Adora had teased her for mercilessly as a child. 

Qrow barked out a laugh. "You got me. Still feel myself going for it after all these years." 

Catra's ears drooped. She failed to see the humor in the statement. "So," she said, "it never really gets easier, then?" 

The laughter faded from Qrow's eyes. He shrugged. "No. Not really. It's a struggle, every day. Some days you'll struggle less. Some days more. I wish I could tell you there will be a time when it'll all be over, but I can't." His expression wasn't pitying, Catra was glad for that. It was…sympathetic. And for once, Catra let herself appreciate the fact that there was someone who could intimately understand what she was going through. 

"I'm Catra," she said before she could chicken out. "I don't think I've ever introduced myself properly. I'm not great at talking about me." 

Qrow smiled that same weirdly familiar half-smile. "I've noticed," he said. "I try to keep tabs on all of the regular members. But it's nice to have a name to go with the face." 

Catra’s tail twitched uneasily, but Qrow seemed to be perfectly comfortable talking about himself. Another question couldn’t hurt, right? She cleared her throat. “So, how long have you been, you know, with the program?”   
  
Qrow considered that, looking pensive. “Gotta be about...seven years or so maybe? Haven’t been sober for all of them, mind you.” He pulled a bronze coin from his pocket and held it up. It had a little number five minted onto its surface.   
  
“What made you decide to quit?” Catra wasn’t sure why she was feeling inquisitive all of a sudden. She was intrigued by the man. She’d never really had an extended conversation with anybody like him before. Someone who had been dealing with this for such a long period of time.   
  
“My niece,” he said. He looked off into the distance, a fond smile on his lips. “Bright kid. Incredibly talented. Pretty low tolerance for bullshit.” He shook his head. “I got in a really bad way. I’d been telling myself I was a functional alcoholic for years. Then things took a turn. I had a falling out with my sister. Learned a friend of mine I’d trusted had been lying to me about...well, it doesn’t really matter. Point is, I took it bad. I wound up passed out at my best friend’s place - her dad,” he explained. “She found me on the floor, nearly drowning in my own vomit. Probably owe her my life for that. She got together with her dad and her sister. Arranged an intervention and everything. It was the wake-up call I needed.” 

Catra looked away awkwardly. “That...sounds like it was really hard.”   
  
Qrow shrugged. “It was. But like I said before, temptation isn’t something we can overcome alone. I was lucky I had people there to help get me on the right track.”

Catra didn’t know what to say to that. She wondered if she should share something in return, but he hadn’t asked her anything. She glanced around the room, surprised to find that they were alone. "I should probably get going," she said. She didn't have anywhere to be per se - she didn't work most Sundays - but she was suddenly eager to be alone. Maybe she could work on a way to do something nice for Adora, to make up for her behavior the night before. 

_ She was who was there for me, and all I ever do is hurt her. _

"Sure," Qrow said. "I should get going too. I told my niece I'd meet her for lunch. Walk you out?" 

"Okay," Catra said, falling into step beside him as they made their way through the halls of the community center. After a moment, she glanced at him. “Is this the same niece who…” she trailed off, uncertainly.   
  
Qrow barked out that laugh again. “No, she doesn’t live in the city. She’s working on some post-grad degree back home. But my other niece, her sister, lives around here. She likes to check in on me now and then.”

The pair of them emerged from the community center and into Plaza West, one of four main plazas that bordered the massive park everybody referred to as The Wilds. It was a sprawling, cultivated piece of nature that dominated a large part of central Republic City. There were paths and parks all throughout The Wilds, but a good bit of it was practically a forest. It was a place where nature was allowed to exist in the otherwise developed metropolis.

Catra squinted against the brightness of the midday sun. As she predicted, she was too warm in her oversized hoodie. Summer was only a few short weeks away, and the comfort of cool weather was becoming a distant memory. However, despite the sunlight overhead, she could see clouds on the horizon. There was a storm rolling in, and it was looking like it would be a bad one. Catra thought she could see a flash somewhere in the roiling mass of dark grey, and it was confirmed by a rumble of thunder some time later, making people in the plaza before her turn to stare nervously at the oncoming storm.

Plaza West itself was furthest from the girl’s house, which suited Catra just fine. It meant that there was less chance of running into anyone when she went to her meetings. The large, open plaza was home to food vendors mostly, and there were plenty of cafés with open-air patios, though most of those were already starting to lower their umbrellas and chain down tables and chairs. It wasn’t hard to see why. Even with the storm still an hour off, the wind was beginning to pick up around them. A particularly strong gust of chilly wind swept across her, making her temporarily grateful for her choice of clothes.

But despite the inclement weather, the plaza was full, with plenty of people going about their business. Granted, nobody was sticking around. Some ducked into the community center to eat and visit with friends, but more just went on their way, hoping to get home before the storm arrived. Across the plaza, Catra could see City Hall, not as busy as it would be during the week, but still visibly active as the unfortunate people who had to work on the weekend popped out for lunch breaks or phone calls.    
  
She turned to face Qrow who was scanning the plaza, obviously looking for somebody. His niece, probably. “It was nice talking to you,” Catra said, and to her surprise, she meant it. Qrow looked at her and gave her a smile.   
  
“Nice talking to you, too. You gonna be here next week?” Catra nodded. He grunted in approval.    
  
“For what it’s worth, I think you should share a little of your story. Most of the people in those meetings are looking at a long, dark road ahead. Having somebody who’s walked a little bit of it can sometimes do them a world of good.”   
  
Catra’s ears flattened against her head and she looked away. “I don’t know. I don’t exactly have the most inspiring story.”   
  
Qrow seemed to find that amusing. “Nobody does, kid,” he said. “It’s not the story that’s inspiring. It’s the fact that you’re here to tell it.”   
  
Catra flicked an ear thoughtfully. “I’ll think about it,” she said. She met his eyes. “But I’m not a kid.”   
  
Qrow barked out another of his laughs. “You’ll have to forgive an old man like me. Anybody around my nieces’ ages are still kids to me. And speak of the devil.”   
  
His eyes found someone over Catra’s shoulder, and she heard a horrible, gut-wrenchingly familiar voice call out behind her.   
  
“Hey! Uncle Qrow! Sorry I’m late.”   
  
Catra turned without thinking, the hair on her tail and the back of her neck bristling as she saw a familiar mess of golden blonde hair weaving her way through the crowd and up the stairs of the community center towards them. Yang, like Catra, was overdressed for the weather, wearing her usual brown leather jacket, though at least her accessory served the purpose of keeping her from getting road rash if she fell from her motorcycle. She complimented them with matching brown boots and a pair of shorts as a concession to the warm weather. She stopped at the foot of the stairs and took off her aviator sunglasses, her expression confused as she looked from her to Qrow and back again.   
  
“Catra?” she asked. Catra wished desperately that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. What had she done to deserve this? How much did Yang know about Qrow’s meetings? Did she know why he was here? The dawning comprehension in Yang’s lilac eyes told her that, yes, she did know, and that she was beginning to put two and two together.

Catra didn't waste another second thinking. She bolted, taking the stairs at an angle away from Yang. She shoved past a couple and shot across the plaza. She wasn’t sure if Yang had called after her or if she had just imagined she had. She needed to be away. Far away.    
  
Fear clutched her heart. Her head was spinning. Yang knew. She knew about her meetings. Or at least she would in a matter of minutes when Qrow told her where they'd met. Would she tell anyone? She would definitely tell Blake, wouldn’t she? And if Blake and Yang and Adora all knew, how long would it be until Korra or Asami found out? 

_ You couldn’t hide this forever _ , Zella said in her mind.  _ They’ll all know what a failure you are. If they ever respected you, ever cared for you, it will all be over once they know _ .   
  
Catra didn’t know where she was going. She just ran. She realized at some point that she was leaving Plaza West, crossing one of the bridges over a stream and into The Wilds. That was as good a place as any, she supposed. She could feel bitter tears on her cheeks as she ran and ran.

The park had probably been quite busy this morning as people had come out to enjoy a few hours of spring sunshine. She could still see a few visitors; some friends around her age tossing a frisbee; a few families finishing up picnics; an old couple feeding some pigeons to the delight of a handful of small children. But it was clear that most people were packing up and leaving, eager to be inside for a rainy afternoon. Catra wasn’t one of them. She stared around at small moments of idealistic lives. It felt like something out of a magazine. Like something from a world that she didn't feel even remotely connected to. She glanced over her shoulder. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see anyone following her or not.

She wished Adora was here. She was glad she wasn't. How was it that, even in a moment of relative peace and acceptance of herself, life could find a way to kick her in the teeth? Hadn't she already had to deal with enough shit in her life? Had she just not suffered enough yet? Or was it that so much of her suffering had been self-inflicted, life needed to compensate by heaping things she couldn't control on top of it? Her scars burned beneath her hoodie sleeve. The purple medallion Qrow had given her felt like it weighed a ton in her pocket. 

She followed a winding dirt path until she found herself at the edge of the sprawling woods. Only then did she slow her pace, her heart thundering in her chest. Her tank top stuck to her sweaty back beneath her too-warm hoodie. She glanced around. It seemed like she was alone for the most part. Anybody who had been this far into the park seemed to have cleared out already. Another powerful gust of wind blew through the higher branches of the trees making the leaves rustle. For a moment, it sounded like they were whispering to each other. Catra took off her hoodie, wrapping it around her waist, then plunged into the shade of the trees. 

The worn trails through the wooded parts of The Wilds weren’t marked out as well as their counterparts through the more cultivated parts of the park. The paths were only loosely determined by signs placed at the occasional interval and wound their way through the places where the trees were spaced far enough to allow for comfortable movement. An effort had been made to allow this space to exist and grow as it would, unencumbered by plans or human design. Catra liked coming here, but she didn’t exactly have it memorized. She picked a direction at a fork between two trails and wandered deeper into the woods. She wanted to be as far as possible from people, storm be damned.   
  
The wind picked up again, and the woods came to life around her. Catra shivered, but didn’t pull back on her hoodie. She didn’t care about the cold gusts of wind, or the fact that it was cooler in the shade of the trees than it had been in the sunlit plaza. She didn’t care about her comfort at that moment. She didn’t care about much at all. Or at least, she was trying not to. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she extracted it, glancing at the screen. Yang was calling her. Her chest felt tight and she ignored the call, switching the phone to 'do not disturb' before putting it back in her pocket. She walked on. And on. The sky darkened overhead. 

She finally stopped at a big old tree in a quiet part of the woods. She was pretty sure she'd never seen it before. It was big around at the base, and it had lots of large, sturdy branches halfway up that looked as though they'd hold her weight. Perfect. She took a few steps back and sprinted towards the tree. She launched herself off of a gnarled root and leapt, sinking her claws into the trunk. She climbed the tree, grunting slightly with the effort. She'd always been good at climbing. After a few minutes, she reached the lowest, sturdiest branch and grabbed it, hoisting herself up and bracing herself against the trunk for balance. 

She continued her climb, pulling herself higher from branch to branch. It was difficult. She hadn't climbed like this in years. Her messy bangs were sticking to her forehead, falling annoyingly into her eyes. She swiped at them pointlessly and climbed on. Finally, she found a thick, sturdy branch about halfway up the tree and settled herself on it, tail thrashing uneasily as she leaned against the bark. She leaned her head back and caught her breath, her arms and shoulders aching. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. 

Now that she was stationary, her head started whirling with thoughts she hadn't allowed herself to consider. Yang knew she was in AA. To assume anything else would be insulting to her intelligence. Yang had her fair share of ditzy moments, sure, but she wasn't stupid, not by a long shot. It was safer to assume her secret, such as it was, was out. 

Of course, she'd already admitted that she didn't drink anymore, so maybe she was overreacting. Maybe her secret had been out then. She didn't know. And that lack of knowledge scared her. 

Catra groaned and hit her head against the bark of the tree. It hurt, and the pain made her feel guilty. The scars on her arm itched. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of nature around her. The sounds of the city were distant here, only barely audible to her enhanced faunus senses. The rumbling thunder sounded much closer than it had back in Plaza West. What was she even doing out here anyway? 

Then she heard another sound, closer even than the thunder. It was a small mewling sound, coming from somewhere above her. Catra opened her eyes and craned her neck, looking for the source of the sound. It didn't take her long to find it. A few branches above her, perched and eyeing her curiously, was a cat. It wasn't large, maybe five or six pounds at the most. Its coat was a deep burgundy color, and its eyes were green and suspicious as it looked at her. The cat tilted its head to the left and Catra mirrored the gesture. It held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. It sat up a little straighter and began to lick its paw as if to show Catra that it wasn't concerned with her presence. Catra smirked in amusement. 

The cat had no collar, and it lacked the plump body and sleek coat of a spoiled favorite pet. Its fur was matted in places, and it was a little on the thin side, though not dangerously underweight. "Been on your own a while?" Catra asked, grateful for the distraction the creature provided. The cat continued to lick its paw. 

"Is this your tree? Or are you just passing by?" She looked around, guessing that the cat wasn't going to be particularly talkative. She saw several places where visible claw marks denoted favorite scratching spots. And from her vantage point, she could see a hollow in a cluster of roots below that would make a small creature nearly invisible if they hunkered down inside. 

"Got it," she said. "Sorry about that. I won't stay too long." The cat was washing its face now and didn't respond. She watched it for a while longer. Then she dug her phone out of her pocket. 

She had two missed calls and a text message from Yang. She felt her stomach twist. She dismissed the missed call notifications and hovered over the text icon. What if she just ignored it completely? She could pretend it never happened, deny ever being there. 

_ Yeah, just gaslight your friend, that's a great idea.  _ She clenched her jaw. 

The cat leapt down from the branch above her, landing in Catra's lap. Catra started and nearly dropped her phone, only barely able to keep her balance. She glared at the cat who was sitting on her with a dignified expression on its face. Then it began to knead her jeans, turning on the spot to make itself comfortable. 

"I liked you better when you were ignoring me," Catra grumbled, but the cat was indifferent to her disapproval as it curled up in her lap. Catra rolled her eyes. 

"I swear if you have fleas or something, I'm going to skin you." The cat said nothing, and reluctantly, Catra began to scratch it behind the ears. It seemed to like that, and soon it was purring contentedly. 

"Stupid cute thing," she grumbled. She looked back at her phone. She wasn't going anywhere, it would seem, so she supposed now was as good a time as any. She opened the text. 

_ Hey Catra, sorry I startled you earlier. Qrow said you guys ran into each other outside the community center and you were asking for directions. Crazy odds, right? He's a super chill guy, I'm glad you two got a chance to meet. Anyways, sorry again for catching you off guard. I'll see you back at home later, yeah?  _

Catra read the text a few times, the cat purring obliviously as she scratched it. Yang was giving her an out, she had to be. Asking for directions? The excuse was paper thin. Even if Qrow hadn't told Yang anything, the look in her eyes had been too understanding. 

And yet, Yang was offering her a chance to pretend it never happened. Maybe that meant she wouldn't tell Blake after all, though that seemed like a lot to hope for. And even if she was willing to pretend she didn't know where Catra went every Sunday, that wouldn't change the fact that she did, in fact, know. It would change the way she looked at her. The way she thought about her. Maybe the way she treated her? 

The cat nipped at her fingers, not aggressively, but to signal it was done being scratched. Catra looked down at the creature, who met her gaze. "What do you think I should do?" she asked. The cat yawned. Catra stifled her own yawn in response. Her lack of sleep from the night before was catching up with her, and her run through the park and the subsequent climb hadn't helped. She was so tired. And she still had to walk back through the wilds and catch a bus, likely in the pouring rain given the dark clouds that were now obscuring the sun. All because she'd run the minute she'd seen Yang. She'd run, and now she was out here in the middle of the woods, a solid two hours from her bed, and her friends, and Adora. She leaned her head against the tree again. 

"Why do I run away from everything?" 

The cat meowed softly, then got up and stretched before leaping gracefully down to the next branch. Catra watched it go, immediately missing its weight in her lap.

_ They'll all leave you,  _ Zella assured her.  _ One by one. They'll all realize who you really are. They'll realize you're not worth their time. Their attention.  _

_ Then you'll be alone again.  _

Catra shut her eyes hard. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, hiding her face.  _ Just leave me alone,  _ she thought.  _ You're not here. I'm not listening to you! Adora said you can't hurt me anymore, and I've always believed her more than you!  _

_ Adora…  _ Adora hadn't left her, and she knew everything that she'd gone through. Adora was living proof that her foster mom had never been right, that she'd never been worth listening to. 

_ And so is Yang.  _ The realization was surprising to her. Yang hadn't withdrawn from her when she'd learned her secret. She'd tried to call her. She’d texted her. She'd reached out. And not to question her, or interrogate her but to give her an excuse. She'd been so busy focusing on what Yang knew or what she might say, the real meaning of what she was doing for her had slipped through the cracks. Catra felt emotion welling in her chest. She stared at her phone, at the message Yang had sent her. Another thought occurred to her: Qrow was her uncle. She'd helped with his intervention. She lived in the same city as he did, liked to 'check up on him' as he'd said. Of all of her new friends, Yang might be the best equipped to understand what she was going through. She'd have witnessed someone dealing with their addiction first hand for years. 

Someone like her. 

Catra began to type, her heart hammering somewhere in her throat.

_ It's okay. You don't have to pretend for me. I was at AA. I've been going ever since I moved to Republic City. I started going before we moved, though.  _

Before she could think about it, before she could second guess herself, she hit send. She watched the message cycle from 'sent' to 'delivered.' She sat there, staring at her phone. Her mouth felt dry. Her tail twitched in agitation. Waiting for a response gave her time to think, and thinking brought back the insecurities. Why did she do that? What had she been thinking? Yang wasn't going to respond. Why would she? This wasn't her problem, she didn't have to get herself invested in Catra's multitude of personal failings. 

The message changed to 'read.' Then, after a few moments of heart-stopping anxiety, three dots appeared, indicating that someone on the other end was typing a response.   
  
_ Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m really, really sorry I barged in on you like that. I know how personal something like this can be. _   
  
Catra swallowed past a lump in her throat. More intrusive thoughts tried to bubble up inside her, but she forced them away and typed a response. 

_ It’s not your fault. Bad luck is all. I’ve got plenty of that.  _

Yang’s response was quicker this time.   
  
_ Still. I promise I’ll keep this between us, okay? I won’t tell a soul. _   
  
Catra frowned slightly.   
  
_ Even Blake? _   
  
_ Not if you don’t want me to. It’s your life - who you share it with is your decision. _   
  
Catra re-read the simple message at least a dozen times. She wanted so badly to believe that it was true. She wanted to believe Yang really felt that way, that she would be willing to keep this secret even from her partner. 

Adora would have believed her.    
  
_ Only because she’s gone soft after all these years,  _ Zella whispered.  _ I taught you better than that… _

Catra screwed up her face in pain. Her chest hurt. Everything hurt. She didn't want to be that person anymore. She didn't want to be the woman Zella had wanted her to be. Cruel. Cutthroat. Manipulative. Those were her foster mom’s favorite tools, and she'd tried everything in her power to hand them down to her. 

_ And look where turning them down got you,  _ Zella's voice taunted her. 

The flashing notification light on her phone interrupted her thoughts. She glanced at it. Yang had texted her again.   
  
_ I know you don’t know me super well, but for what it’s worth, I’m always here if you want to talk. I consider you a friend, and I make sure my friends are taken care of. No pressure, obviously, but if you just need to rant or want help or anything at all, I’ll listen. _ _   
_ _   
_ Catra was crying again by the time she finished the message, silent tears sliding down her face. She swiped them away angrily. What was wrong with everybody? First Adora, now Yang. Didn’t they understand that she wasn’t worth this? That she wasn’t worth their sympathy or their understanding? She was a career fuck up who took every opportunity to make the wrong decision. She’d had her chances, plenty of them. Another tear rolled down her cheek.    
  
And yet...the temptation to trust Yang, to believe her when she said she’d keep her secret, that she’d be there for her, was so strong it was like an ache inside of Catra. She tried to imagine how it would feel to be like everybody else. To be able to confide in someone, to open up and be vulnerable with them. She had that with Adora, but even then she was afraid of doing or saying too much, of inflicting too much of herself on the only person who she had to open up to. Adora deserved better than being an outlet for all of Catra’s insecurities. Maybe, just maybe, in this one single area, she could find a way to open up to someone else. Someone who had watched a family member go through it all, and stood by them the whole time. 

_ You’re making a mistake _ , Zella informed her as she typed and re-typed a message for Yang.   
  
_ Thank you for saying that. Adora knows, so you don’t have to worry about keeping it from her. She’s the only other person though. I didn’t want to make it somebody else’s burden, you know? _

Her throat was tight. It was barely anything if she was being honest with herself, but even opening up that tiny fraction made her chest feel the tiniest bit lighter.

_ Qrow felt the same way at first. But for what it’s worth, the people who care about you don’t see it as a burden. We’ve all got shit to deal with, but that doesn’t mean we have to deal with it alone. _   
  
Catra was saved having to reply - not that she knew what to say in the first place - by the little dancing dots that indicated Yang wasn’t done.   
  
_ How far did you get? I didn’t see you at the bus stop. Are you still by Plaza West? I could buy you lunch if you wanted, wait out the storm. Then I can give you a lift back to the house. _   
  
Another rumble of thunder made the hair on the back of Catra’s neck stand up. It was much closer now. She didn’t know how long she had until the downpour began, but it probably wasn’t long. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about spending time with Yang alone, either. She hadn’t spent much time individually with her new housemates. A few conversations in passing here and there maybe, but she’d mostly kept to her and Adora’s room or the den when Adora wasn’t home. She typed a message, buying herself some time.   
  
_ Didn’t you just have lunch with your uncle? I hope you didn’t cut it short on my account _ .

Her response was almost immediate. She was a damn fast texter.

_ Yeah, but I don’t have to eat anything. I have an unreasonable caffeine addiction. Consider it a ‘sorry I busted in on you in a private moment’ lunch? _

Despite herself, Catra smiled. She didn’t reply right away, mulling what a lunch together might entail. She stalled again.   
  
_ I dunno. Maybe I should just head straight home. I’m supposed to see Adora. _

_ I don’t think she’s home yet. I know she agreed to help Korra with her self-defense classes this afternoon. Not sure when those wrap up.  _ _   
_ _   
_ Catra felt a little stab of jealousy that Yang seemed to know Adora’s schedule better than her, but she snuffed it out immediately. She wasn’t about to go down that road of stupidity again, not after last night. Yang’s next text came before she figured out how to respond.   
  
_ But if you don’t want to come, it’s no big deal! I don’t want to pressure you or anything. Just thought I’d offer :) _

Catra bit her lip. The wind gusted again, stronger than it had before, and she found herself gripping the trunk of the tree to keep from being blown out of it. She didn’t have to be out here for the freezing deluge. She didn’t have to be alone if she didn’t want to be. 

And for once, she really,  _ really  _ didn’t want to be alone.    
  
_ Okay, yeah. I’ll head your way. Still at Plaza West? _   
  
_ Yup! I’m at a café called The Foxhole about a block north of the community center. _   
  
She followed up her text with a drop of her location. Catra studied it for a moment, not sure if she should feel nervous or proud of herself for not turning her down. She decided to go with both.   
  
_ Sounds good. On my way.  _   
  
She descended from the tree carefully, landing lightly on the forest floor. She unwound her hoodie from around her waist and put it on again. The loss of the sun had dramatically lowered the temperature and she could feel goosebumps running up her arms. She spotted the cat in its little hollow of the roots at the base of the tree. It had curled up against the storm, but it was watching her as she adjusted her clothes. She crouched next to it and scratched it under the chin. It purred again.    
  
“Thanks for letting me borrow your tree,” she said. “And for keeping me company. Are you going to be okay out here by yourself? It’s supposed to be a pretty nasty storm.” The cat fixed her with its green eyes. Up close, she could see that it had a patch of darker red fur around its shoulders and neck, almost like a little mane.    
  
“I’d leave you my hoodie, but I kind of have to keep it. It’s this thing, with my arm, I can’t let people see…” she trailed off. The cat tilted its head to one side, the way it had when she’d first met it.    
  
“Okay, well, I gotta go. You take care, okay?” The cat meowed, though what it was trying to say, Catra had no idea. She turned and took the dirt path the way she’d come, back through the trees towards Plaza West.

She’d been walking for about a quarter hour before the first raindrops began to fall. They were fat, freezing drops that were barely stopped or slowed by the canopy of leaves overhead. Catra stopped and looked up as the rain came. A flash of light overhead was followed almost instantly by a crack of thunder. She bit her lip, then turned back, jogging towards the tree. She took out her phone and typed a hasty message to Yang.   


_ Gonna be longer than I thought. Is this café of yours animal friendly? _


	4. The Cat and the Blonde, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra has an insightful lunch with Yang, and makes a new friend in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you all it would be a quick turnaround! Thanks again to my beta, Skadiwolfe13. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Catra traveled the last five minutes of her journey at a dead sprint. The heavens had opened up and rain was sheeting down in buckets. She was soaked to the skin in seconds, her hoodie suddenly feeling like it was ten pounds heavier. She clutched the little burgundy cat beneath the garment against her chest, her head bowed against the rain. She spotted the café with little difficulty. It had an outdoor patio that was thoroughly abandoned, and a large glass window had the name of the establishment in an artistic, stylized font. A little red fox was also drawn, gamboling happily through the lettering on the glass. There was even a tavern-style wooden sign over the door with another fox. This one was drawn holding a strange looking symbol. Two circles, one inside the other, the inner connected to the outer with two curving lines. Catra didn’t have time to consider what it might have meant as she hit the door, stumbling inside and out of the rain.  
  
The cafe itself was very quaint, and a little rustic. Honestly, it looked like something that might belong in one of those medieval-style festivals Adora was always wanting to go to. The counter was a large piece of solid wood, carved with imagery that wouldn’t be out of place in a children’s book of fairytales. There were tables scattered around the place, all of them also with a distinctly rustic, handmade vibe that contrasted with the very modern dishes and coffee machines behind the counter, as well as the metal door that led to what Catra could only imagine was the kitchen. To top it all off, there was a small collection of squishy armchairs and a couch on one side of the large room around an actual fireplace, which had a small fire crackling merily within it. The place wasn’t very busy. There was a couple sitting in one corner, holding hands and speaking in low voices, giggling to themselves on occasion. There was an enormous looking man with an almost comically small plate and mug on the table beside him, reading a book in one of the armchairs. A dark skinned redhead was behind the counter, his back turned to her. And then there was Yang, sitting at a table by herself near the window. She looked around as Catra came in, her eyes widening.   
  
“Hey Fox, you got a couple of towels?” Yang asked as she got to her feet, hurrying to the counter.   
  
The redhead turned slightly and nodded in affirmation. He disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a moment later, tossing half a dozen dish towels on the countertop. Yang grabbed them and gestured for Catra to come over to her table.   
  
Her teeth were chattering as Yang began to pat her dry. The cafe still had the air conditioning on from when it had been warmer earlier, and the water combined with the cool air wasn’t exactly a pleasant sensation. She unzipped her hoodie and produced the small cat within. It was drier than Catra, but not by much. It looked up curiously at Yang and meowed at her in what might have been annoyance.   
  
“Aww!” Yang said, distracted immediately by the appearance of the cat. “Where did you find this little sweetheart?” She took one of the dry towels and began to dry the cat, who objected to this somewhat, squirming away from Yang. Fortunately, she wasn’t very large, and Catra managed to keep a grip on her. She was a her, she’d discovered when she scooped the cat up earlier. 

  
“I found her on my walk,” Catra said simply. “I thought I could at least get her out of the storm. I think she’s a stray, didn’t have a collar or anything.”   
  
“Well aren’t you the cutest little thing?” Yang cooed. The cat meowed grumpily. Its fur was fluffy where Yang had dried her. She took her from Catra who picked up a few of the towels and attempted to dry herself. Or at least stop the water from dripping off of her. Catra hated being wet.   
  
“So, you know the barista here?” Catra said, trying to make small talk as Yang put the cat down on one of the last dry dish towels. It kneaded at it experimentally for a moment before deciding that it would be a perfectly fine place to nap, and curled up on the table.   
  
Yang looked at her. “Who, Fox? Oh, he’s not just the barista. He owns this place. Hey Fox! This is my friend, Catra! She’s one of the ones who took DT’s old room.”   
  
Fox waved at them without turning around. He was focused on something, but Catra couldn’t see what. Yang rolled her eyes, smiling good-naturedly.   
  
“Not much of a talker, Fox,” she said. “Here, why don’t you take that off, I’m sure it’s got to be freezing. We can hang it up by the fireplace and it’ll be dry before we leave.” She reached to help her out of her hoodie, but catra flinched away, her right arm burning.   
  
“No! I mean, um, no thanks. It’ll be fine, I’ll warm up in a sec.” She’d already patted herself mostly dry after her impromptu shower. Well, acceptably damp at least. She stood there awkwardly, drawing her hoodie tight around her and trying to ignore the shivers that she felt going down her spine. Yang frowned, but didn’t push the subject. Instead, she gathered up a handful of the towels and went to drop them off on the counter. Catra grabbed the last two and followed her. 

Catra looked around, getting a better idea of the place and trying not to visibly shiver. It was warmly lit and decorated with a collection of textured tapestries. A few of the walls bore framed photographs, mostly landscape stuff. Some of it looked like shots of The Wilds. The place gave off a distinct indy vibe, but Catra didn't hate it. 

"Thanks Fox," Yang said, putting the towels on the counter. Catra mimicked her, and Yang looked at her, expectantly. 

"What do you want to eat?" 

Catra flushed. "Oh, you don't have to get me anything." 

Yang waved away her concern. "Nonsense. You'll feel better once you've had something. Ooh, Fox has a great tuna melt! Blake loves it. That is," she looked sheepish all of a sudden, "I mean if you like tuna." 

Catra looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I do like tuna," she admitted, mumbling. Yang’s smile returned. 

"Great, one tuna melt, Fox, and another coffee for me." 

Fox turned away from whatever he had been looking at. Catra craned her neck and saw a few papers, but all of them seemed to be blank. She looked back at Fox, getting her first good look at his face. His skin was a few shades darker than Korra, and he looked handsome enough - though Catra was admittedly not great at judging guy's appearances. It was only then that she noticed his snowy white eyes.

"You're blind!" Catra blurted. She clasped both of her hands over her mouth, horrified at herself. Fox cocked an eyebrow. 

"Oh, that's a relief," he said. He had a soft voice, dry with amusement. "I thought I forgot to pay the power bill again." There was a pause, then he cracked a smile. Yang chuckled and Catra let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. 

"I'm so sorry," she said. Fox waved a hand dismissively. 

"Don't worry about it. Happens all the time." He moved to the register and began to press a few buttons with precise, practiced motions. He moved too quickly to be reading any braille the register may have had on it, and Catra got the impression that he’d simply memorized where his fingers needed to go. "You getting anything else, Yang?" Yang shook her head. 

"Nah. I'm already going to be up half the night." She dug a wallet out of her jacket pocket and passed him a few hundred lien. 

"Yatsu," Fox said, his voice rising a bit, "break's over." 

"I heard," the big man by the fireplace said. He carefully marked his book and set it aside, stretching as he rose. He was probably close to seven feet tall. He gave Yang a familiar wave and scooped up the damp towels on his way to the kitchen. Catra looked at Yang as they waited for Fox to get Yang’s coffee. 

"Do you know everyone in this city?" 

Yang seemed to seriously consider that for a moment. "Probably not," she finally decided. Catra shook her head, but she couldn’t keep herself from smiling.   
  
Her attention was drawn behind the counter as she watched Fox make Yang’s coffee. Like with the register, it seemed as though he had memorized where he needed to be and what he needed to do. Now that she was looking more closely, she could see that everything from the coffee machines to the little spoon he used to scroop the beans into the grinder seemed to have a carefully marked spot. Maybe for the benefit of other employees? Fox moved with a careful kind of speed, and after only a few minutes, he slid a mug on a saucer towards Yang. She thanked him and led them back towards their table where the cat had seemingly drifted into a deep slumber.

They settled in to wait for Catra's food. She fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie as she did. She wondered if she should say something. Should she thank Yang for lunch now? Or after she'd eaten? Would it be poor form to pay her back? Catra didn't have much experience with people who weren't Adora doing things for her.

Yang, for her part, was sipping from the coffee mug and staring out the window at the rain. She seemed comfortable with the silence between them, which Catra hadn't expected. She studied her more closely. In the café interior, she let her jacket hang open, and Catra realized she'd made another concession to the earlier heat that she hadn't seen when she saw her outside the community center. She was wearing a remarkably brief yellow crop top with a black symbol of a burning heart over the left breast. Catra suddenly found herself keenly aware of the fact that the last time she'd seen Yang face-to-face, she'd been very drunk and very topless. She felt herself blush and avert her eyes. Unfortunately, that only meant that she went from looking at Yang’s chest to looking at her abs, and that didn't make her any less hot under the collar. Yang was _cut._ Not like she didn't know that, of course, but it was easy to forget sometimes that the blonde party girl was a boxing enthusiast back in college, and still trained in her spare time.

Yang must have felt the weight of Catra's attention, because she looked at her, smiling. She snapped her eyes up to meet her gaze, hoping Yang didn't think she was some kind of creep gawking at her like that.

_Don't worry, she probably already thinks you're a weirdo for running out in tears last night. And running from the plaza earlier today._

Her stomach turned. She opened her mouth to speak at the same time Yang did.

"I just wanted to-"

"So what do you-"

They both paused, giving the other the opportunity to speak, then Yang burst into a fit of giggles, and Catra found herself laughing too. The cat looked up from its dish towel pillow, annoyed at the outburst.

"Sorry," Catra said. "I'd say that I'm having an off day, but this is pretty much as functional as I get."

That drew another chuckle from Yang. She had an infectious laugh, Catra admitted. "Why don't you go first?" Yang said.

Catra's face flushed again, and her ears flattened slightly. Her tail twitched beneath the table. "I was going to say that I wanted to…apologize for the way I acted last night. Running out on you all, I mean." Her blush deepened and she focused on the cat, scratching it behind its ear and making it twitch lazily. "I was just being dumb and really insecure. I didn't mean to ruin the whole night."

She risked a glance at Yang. She was looking at her with an odd expression that Catra couldn't quite parse. It was a tender look, with something that could have been…embarrassment?

"Catra, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for," she said. "The four of us have, well, let's just say a lot of history. We're very comfortable around each other, and we're used to pushing each other's buttons. And Adora and I…" She paused, shaking her head, a fond smile on her lips. "We used to get into so much shit back in the day." Catra felt an odd clenching feeling in her stomach, but she ignored it.

"The point is," Yang continued, "it was wrong of us not to consider that you wouldn't be as comfortable with everything as we were. We should have done more to establish barriers and figure out what was going on with you. We talked about it a little last night, and we're all really sorry. Especially Asami."

Catra's stomach unclenched and did a few somersaults instead. She'd been so wrapped up thinking about how much of an idiot she'd been and how she'd treated Adora that she hadn't spared much thought for Asami. Or maybe she just hadn't wanted to remember the smoldering look in her eyes when she'd said she wanted to kiss _her_ instead of Adora. Or the hopeful expression in her eyes when she'd asked if Catra wanted to kiss her back. As if somehow, Catra was worth _wanting_.

Her heart fluttered, and she tried to remember how to speak properly. "It wasn't her fault," she finally managed. “I have...issues. With trust, I mean, not just in general. Well, I guess I do have a few general ones.” She gritted her teeth. The urge to change the subject, or run to the bathroom, or even back out into the pouring rain was very strong, but she forced all those urges back down.

She jumped when she felt Yang brush her hand. She was looking at her with a kind smile. "You don't have to get into it if you don't want to," she said.

Catra paused, then shook her head. "No, I want to." She was surprised to realize that she meant it. "You guys have all been really good to me and Adora, and I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with."

"Nobody thinks about you that way," Yang said softly. "And I don't say that to try and invalidate what you feel or anything, but please believe me when I say that we all really like having you around."

The same ache Catra felt back in the woods overwhelmed her again. "I'd…like to believe that," she said slowly. "But it doesn't come easy to me. Adora says it's Zella's fault. I want to believe that, too. But part of me always believes that everything's my fault. I guess because so many things have been." She was pretty sure she wasn't making any sense. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, trying to remember what her point had been in the first place.

"Who's Zella?" Yang asked.

Catra flexed her claws, digging the points into the wood of the table. "Our foster mom," she said, her expression darkening as she stared at the table. "She had a very specific purpose for us. We were supposed to be prodigies, to make her look good. We must have tried a little bit of everything when we were younger. Sports, martial arts, music, theater, you name it. It was actually fun for a little while. I liked dancing most.

"Then it turned out Adora was amazing at soccer, so we were soccer kids. Adora played striker, so I played striker. Everything was a competition after that. She'd have us compete for privileges or affection. It never mattered how well we did, it only mattered who did best. And that was always Adora. She was faster than me, more talented, harder working. She was the favorite, and Zella made sure I knew it."

Catra dug her claws into the palm of her hand. The scars on her arm burned. She was probably talking too much, but now that she'd started, it felt like it was hard to stop. "After a while, I stopped trying. I was never going to beat Adora, so what was the point? I acted out. I rebelled. Adora would encourage me. She'd try to shield me from the worst of Zella's punishments. She'd sneak me food when I was sent to bed without dinner, or sneak in through my window when Zella locked me in my bedroom. We slept together most nights. Adora never treated me like I was less, and I loved her for that."

Catra took a deep breath and tried again to remember the point she had been trying to make. "I can still hear her voice in my head, telling me how I'm not good enough for Adora, for anybody. How I'm going to fuck something up, or drag her down with me, or how she deserves so much more than I can give her. And…it's hard not to believe that.

"Then Asami said… _that_ ." Catra felt her heart flutter in her chest again. "Nobody's ever chosen me over Adora before, _nobody_ . And I don't blame them. I…didn't really know what to feel. Or how to handle it. And then she asked me if _I_ wanted to kiss _her,_ and what kind of question even is that anyways? Because she's tall and she's gorgeous and she's fucking brilliant at _everything_ , so who _wouldn't_ want to kiss her? But I couldn't say that, obviously, because I don't even really deserve Adora in the first place, so how am I supposed to say I'd want to kiss another girl while she's sitting _right there,_ even if that girl is Asami fucking Sato?"

She glanced at Yang who was watching her with concern. _She thinks I'm crazy,_ she thought. But when she spoke, her voice was gentle, consoling.

"Nobody meant it like that," she said.

"I know!" Catra snapped, burying her face in her hands. She dragged her claws over her scalp. "I know that," she said, her voice more even. "That's why it's so _stupid_ . I know it didn't mean anything, I know it was just a stupid game. But that didn't stop me from freaking out, or snapping at Adora or just being fucking _me_ about all of this…"

They sat there like that a while, the rain lashing at the window beside them. The silence between them was deafening. Catra wished she knew what Yang was thinking. Was she just processing everything Catra had word vomited all over her? Did she regret inviting her here? Or the fact that they'd moved in at all? She wouldn't have blamed her for that.

Her whirling thoughts were interrupted by a small meow. The cat had come over to investigate her, prodding her wrist with its cold little nose. She lowered her hands and looked at it. It rubbed its face against her, purring slightly. Catra smiled, despite herself, and scratched it behind the ears. Its purring got louder. Stupid cute thing.

"Have you named her yet?" Yang asked. Catra furrowed her brow.

"No. I wasn't planning on keeping her. I figured she was happier living out in The Wilds."

Yang smiled. "She seems pretty happy here with you."

The cat had settled in front of Catra, offering more spots for her to scratch. "I mean, I'd have to ask Asami," Catra said. Technically the house was hers, after all. "And anyways, I'm pretty sure Naga could eat her in one bite."

"Nah," Yang said, waving a hand dismissively. "Naga's great with other animals. She's a big softie. And I'm sure Asami would be fine with it.”

Catra struggled to come up with another excuse and came up empty. "I've never really been responsible for another living thing before," she said after a moment. "What if I'm not good at it?"

Yang shrugged. "Worst come to worst, we can always find her a new home. But I don't think that's going to be a problem." Catra looked at her, frowning. Yang smiled back at her. "I know you feel pretty down on yourself, and you've had to struggle a lot. But you've got a big heart, Cat. Even if it has been knocked around a little."

Catra flushed and looked back at the cat whose eyes were drooping. "You don't understand," she mumbled.

"Maybe not all of it," Yang agreed. "But I do get a little bit of it. My mom’s a piece of work, too. My biological mom, at least. She walked out on me and my dad when I was less than a year old and never looked back.” Catra looked up at her, but Yang had turned her attention to the window and didn’t meet her eyes. Her expression was more serious than Catra had seen it.

“I didn’t know for a long time. I grew up believing that my sister’s mom, Summer, was my biological mom.” She smiled a sad smile as she stared out the window. “She was pretty incredible, so it’s not like I can blame them for not telling me. But then she died. I was about eight at the time. My dad kind of shut down for a while. I had this idea one day that maybe some pictures or some of Mom’s old things could cheer him up. I went through the attic, and found a picture of my dad and Summer back at Beacon in the day. There were two other people in the picture with them: our uncle Qrow, and a woman I didn’t recognize. That was when Dad finally told me the truth. My real mom was Raven, Qrow’s twin sister.”  
  
Yang paused and sipped her coffee. There was a distant pain in her eyes, and when she spoke, Catra could hear it bleeding into her voice. “After he told me, I kind of had this obsession with knowing why my mom had left in the first place. Part of me wondered if it was my fault. If she’d left because I wasn’t good enough for her or something.”   
  
Catra frowned. “You were less than a year old, how could it be your fault?”   
  
Yang shrugged. “Feelings aren’t logical, Cat. You of all people should know that. Just because you know something’s true, doesn’t mean you can’t _feel_ the opposite. I knew my mom leaving had nothing to do with me, but that didn’t stop me from becoming _obsessed_ with why she left. And it didn’t make the feelings of abandonment I _still_ feel sometimes any easier to deal with.”   
  
She met Catra’s gaze. There was a lot of understanding in her lilac eyes. “So yeah, I do get it when you say you’ve got a lot of insecurities. I’ve got some myself. I bet the longer you live with us, the more you'll realize that we’re all carrying shit around in some form or another. Even Adora. Hell, maybe especially Adora.”   
  
Catra raised her eyebrows at that. “What do you mean?”   
  
“Well, she had to deal with the same mom you did, right? Maybe she was the favorite, but that had to be a lot of pressure. I never knew why Adora started playing soccer, but anybody who ever saw her play for Beacon knew that she was more than raw talent. She was driven, more than anybody I’ve ever seen. We used to make fun of her for it sometimes, how she’d just eat, breathe and live soccer, only allowing herself to unwind when I’d finally get her to come out or have a drink with me. But, well, knowing what I know now...I guess it just seems a little more sinister than that. Something must have happened, after all, to get her to stop playing.”   
  
Catra’s ears perked up. “You mean...you don’t know?”   
  
Yang furrowed her brow and shook her head. “I graduated a couple years ahead of Adora. I thought I’d hear about her playing for United Republic or Brightmoon or somewhere, but I didn’t hear from her until you guys moved to the city.”   
  
Catra looked down. “She was being scouted by them,” she said. “But, in her last exhibition match, she took a hard hit to the knee. Tore her ACL and really fucked up her leg. The doctors were able to get her back in shape - she can still run and function now and everything - but she couldn’t play again. She had to come back home. That’s where we...reconnected.” There was more to that story, of course, but Catra couldn’t bring herself to tell it. That was heaviness on a magnitude that, even now, she wouldn’t want to inflict on Yang.   
  
A shadow fell over the table and the big guy, Yatsu, dropped off a plate with a delicious smelling sandwich in front of Catra. She gave him what she hoped was at least a polite smile as Yang thanked him.   
  
“I never knew,” Yang said as Catra sampled one of the chips her lunch came with. It was good, handmade with just the right amount of salt. She tried the melt, too, and found it of an equally high quality. She chewed a minute in silence.   
  
“I think that’s what makes me feel the most guilty sometimes.” Catra said in a small voice. “That injury was one of the worst things to ever happen to Adora. And if it hadn’t happened, I never would have gotten her back. I owe all of my happiness to her misery. And I don’t feel like I was worth the trade. Her future. Her career. Fame and fortune. And instead all she ends up with is...me.”   
  
There was another pause. “You could think of it like that,” Yang said after a moment. “Or, you could say that when she needed you more than anything else in the world, you were there to be with her. Maybe you made all the pain she went through worth it.”   
  
Tears bit at the corners of Catra’s eyes. She looked down at her food. The cat was sniffing at the sandwich, and Catra tore off a corner, more to distract herself than anything, and set it on a napkin, removing the top piece of bread. The cat made a happy mewling sound and began to eat.   
  
“I don’t know if I do, though,” she said softly. “I mean, take last night. I freaked out and had a total meltdown on her.”   
  
“You two fought?”   
  
Catra blushed. “Not exactly. I was more...aggressive than I should have been. I wanted to feel like she wasn’t going to...trade me in or whatever. That she really wanted me.”   
  
“She does,” Yang began and Catra waved a hand impatiently.   
  
“I know!” She sighed and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I know. I know she does. It’s not her fault. I shouldn’t have freaked out on her like I did. And I really want to do something to make it up to her but...well, I’ve never been good at romantic gestures and shit. I don’t know what I can do.”   
  
Yang sipped her coffee thoughtfully and Catra had another few bites of food. She kept stealing glances at Yang. Her heart drummed in her chest. Their conversation at once felt liberating and uncomfortably intimate. She hadn’t expected Yang to share so much about her own past. Catra probably wouldn’t have if their roles were reversed. Of course, who would be dumb enough to come to Catra to help deal with their emotional baggage?   
  
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Catra said when she couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Summer, I mean.”   
  
Yang gave her a small smile. “It was a long time ago. I still miss her, of course. But it’s easier now than it was then.”

Catra thought about what Qrow had said. About how managing his addiction never got any easier. Grief was probably the same way. She considered Yang again, another question on the tip of her tongue. It was probably a stupid question, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"Your biological mom, Raven. Is she…part of your life?" Even as she said it, something else Qrow said came back to her. He'd had a falling out with his sister.

Yang’s face darkened. An all-too appropriate flash of lightning washed out the color of her features, and for a moment, Catra could swear she could see a hint of red in Yang’s lilac eyes. Catra felt herself shrink back, reflexively.

"No," Yang said, an icy tone in her voice that made Catra shiver. "She's not."

Catra regretted bringing it up. Thunder made the windows rattle around them, and she suddenly became very interested in her food. She made a mental note to never piss Yang off.

She slid another bit of tuna to the cat, then chanced a look at Yang. The shadow had passed from her face. "Sorry," she said. "My mom is kind of a sore spot for me. I may have a few anger issues I haven't quite worked out myself yet."

Catra laughed softly and mimed raising a glass. "To mom issues."

That made Yang laugh as well. "To mom issues," she agreed.

They lapsed once more into silence, but this time Catra didn't feel the need to fill it. She ate slowly, enjoying the soft music that played throughout the café. She shared more occasional bites with the cat, who was startlingly well behaved. She and Yang watched the rain fall, and over the next ten minutes or so, the deluge weakened to a steady, but light patter.

"You still want to do something for Adora?" Yang asked, still looking at the window, fidgeting with the empty coffee mug in her hand. Catra nodded.

"Yeah. Just something nice, you know? She's so patient with me. I just want to show her that I appreciate her. I want…" _for her to believe I'm worth putting up with._ She didn't say that part, but Yang looked at her with a little too much understanding. She had deeply underestimated her insight, it would seem.

"I can probably convince the others to clear out tonight," she said thoughtfully. "You guys can have a date night, just the two of you."

Catra's ears perked up. "Are you sure? We all have to work tomorrow. I don't want to kick everyone out on a weeknight."

Yang waved away her concerns. "Asami's the only one of us who has to be up super early, and I can tell you from experience that she's a heavy sleeper. Let's say, ten o' clock curfew? I can get Korra to keep Adora busy for the rest of the afternoon while we set up."

Excitement flared momentarily in Catra's chest as she imagined the look in Adora's face as she came home and saw…what, exactly? The excitement faded almost as quickly as it had come. What in the world was she supposed to whip up in a few hours? When she voiced this concern, Yang fell back into thoughtful silence.

"Where did you and Adora go for dinner back in high school? You know, when you asked her out that time?"

Catra flushed. She'd really hoped that everyone had forgotten about that particular story. "Some chain restaurant. It wasn't anything fancy. A noodle place called Simple Wok."

Yang slid her phone from her jacket pocket, fingers moving quickly across the screen. She smiled brightly and waved her phone at Catra. "Looks like they've got one in the city! And they deliver."

Catra was beginning to see where she was going with this. It was cheesy as hell, but she knew Adora better than she knew herself. And Adora loved cheesy.

"You really think the others will be okay with this?" she asked, hesitantly. Yang gave her a deeply amused look.

"Oh, I'm sure it won't take much convincing." At that moment, the lighting changed. The two of them looked outside. A shaft of sunlight was pouring through the dark clouds as the storm finally broke.

"That's our cue! C'mon, I've got Bumblebee parked a few blocks away. I'll text the others on the way." Yang glanced at the little cat as Catra scooped her into her arms. "I should probably mention the little cutie, too. You ever think of a name for her?"

Catra looked at the cat, who seemed to be totally fine with being carried. "Actually, I was thinking about calling her Melog."

Yang frowned. "Have I heard that name before? It sounds familiar."

Catra snorted. Yang really didn't bother to take notes. "It's, uh, the name of my panther. You know, in the game."

Yang’s expression lit up with a kind of radiant joy. "I _knew_ you liked playing with us!" she exclaimed, throwing an arm around Catra's shoulder. Catra grimaced, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"It's fine, I guess. Don't make it weird."

"Oh I am _absolutely_ going to make it weird," Yang said cheerfully, making her way for the door, Catra still pinned to her side. She bid a merry goodbye to Fox and Yatsu as they made their way out into the now humid heat of the city.

But despite her faint embarrassment, and the slight discomfort of the weather, she couldn't remember the last time her heart felt as light as it did just then. Sharing with Yang made her feel more...normal. And yet, something was tugging at the back of her mind as they walked through the city. Yang had drawn away from her, typing away on her phone, yet somehow still perfectly aware of where she was going. Catra stroked Melog thoughtfully in her arms as she extracted the thought and examined it.  
  
She didn’t want to burden Yang with her troubles. She knew what she said - that friends didn’t see things like this as a burden - but she was asking Yang to keep secrets for her. Secrets from her partner, from her best friends. Catra knew a thing or two about secrets, and those were definitely a burden, no matter why they were being kept. She swallowed past a lump in her throat.   
  
“Yang?” she said quietly. Yang looked up from her phone at her. “Did you mean what you said before? That nobody thinks that I’m...hard to get along with?”

Yang beamed at her. “Of course I did. They all like you a lot, Cat.”  
  
She swallowed again. “And you know that? For sure?”   
  
She bumped her slightly with her shoulder. “For sure.”   
  
Catra looked at the oddly quiet city around them. People were beginning to emerge into the sun, and business was shaping up as usual with the storm passed. She came to a decision, and spoke before her courage failed her.   
  
“Then...you can tell people. You know, about my meetings. And I guess the stuff I told you today. If it comes up or whatever.”   
  
Yang raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure? I mean, I really don’t have to. I don’t mind keeping it between us.”   
  
Catra gave her a sincere smile. “I know you would. And, I guess, that kind of makes me feel better about other people knowing. In a weird way.” In a way that her foster mom definitely wouldn’t have approved of. But then, maybe that was another good indicator that she shouldn’t try to hide so much of herself away.   
  
“It doesn’t have to be, like, out of nowhere or anything,” Catra went on. “I just don’t want you to have to lie to them for me.”   
  
Yang looked at her for a few moments, then nodded. “Okay. But if you change your mind, you let me know, okay?”   
  
“I will,” Catra said, but she felt confident she wouldn’t. It was scary, she couldn’t deny that. But this was what she’d wanted from coming out to Republic City, wasn’t it? To change, to move on. To heal.

 _I’m going to be better,_ she thought to herself. _I’m trusting Yang. I’m trusting all of them._ She looked one more time at the radiant blonde beside her, who had gone back to typing away on her phone. She reminded her a lot of Adora, now that she’d spent some time alone with her. Fiercely protective, scary when she was mad, but unfailingly warm and kind hearted at the same time.

And a dork. Just like her dork. She began to think about the preparations for their date night tonight and her heart fluttered again.

Tonight was going to be a lot of fun.


	5. Group Chat 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a little experimental, and considerably shorter than most. For that reason, I have uploaded it alongside a 'real' chapter, and will do so for future iterations of the 'Group Chat.' 
> 
> It's a little different, but I hope you enjoy!

Catra’s Harem  
Asami, Blake, Korra, Yang

_Yang changed the group name to ‘International House of Lesbians’_

Blake B.  
For the last time, Yang, we can’t be a house of lesbians when 3 out of 4 of us are bi.

_Asami Sato changed the group name to ‘Bisexual Brigade’_

Oh absolutely not.

_Korra changed the group name to ‘Asami’s Harem’_

Asami Sato  
Works for me <3

Korra  
Lol

Blake B.   
You guys are ridiculous.

Today

So, I was hanging out with Cat earlier, and she said she wanted to do something nice for Adora (long story,I can tell you the details later). Any objections to clearing out for the night so they can have the house?

Blake B.  
What is she doing?

We’re recreating her date night in HS. The one Adora mentioned last night.

Blake B.  
That’s cute. I’m fine with giving them some space. 

Asami Sato  
How did you convince Catra to hang out?

Like I said, kind of a long story. I may have interrupted her on her way from something earlier.

Blake B.  
So what should we do while they’re busy?

Date night? It’s been a while. We can always tell them that we’re going on a double date or something.

Blake B.  
That could be fun. 

Asami Sato  
Where was she coming from?

I know, right?

Um, I guess she did say it was fine to tell you.

She was at an AA meeting.

Blake B.  
Oh gods, really?

Yeah. I was going to meet Qrow for lunch and I kind of bumped into her.

Asami Sato  
We’re such idiots. We should have guessed, or asked or something. Anything.

Don’t beat yourself up over it. She’s…kind of complicated. But she’s really sweet deep down. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or be a burden. So try not to bring it up to much, yeah?

Asami Sato  
Of course not, I wouldn’t dream of it.

Blake B.  
Poor Catra.

Asami Sato  
Just...let her know that we don’t think any differently about her. We all still care about her.

Yeah. I think she’s starting to get there.

Might be a while though.

On a vaguely related note, I have someone to add to the blacklist.

Blake B.  
Oh?

  
  
Asami Sato  
Who?

Catra and Adora’s foster mom. Her name is Zella Weaver.

No idea what she looks like, but if she comes knocking, she doesn’t come in.

Blake B.  
That's the second mom to make the blacklist. Kind of a bleak trend. 

Asami Sato  
Just means more surrogate daughters for Senna and Kali.

Blake B.   
Lol mom will be thrilled.

But actually though. She sounds like a real piece of work from what Catra said.

Asami Sato  
I'm still trying to figure out how you got her to open up to you. 

I'll try not to be insulted by that lol

Korra  
Hey, lesson just got done, catching up

Oh, good. Don't take Adora home yet. Can you keep her out until, like, 6?

@Korra

Korra  
Yeah, shouldn't be too hard. We've got one more group anyways. I can think of something to stall after

And don't listen to Asami. She's just jealous that you got the first date with Catra. She's got a massive crush on her. 

Asami Sato  
!!! 

KORRA

LOL

Oh come on, it wasn't exactly subtle lol. Besides I'm probably in the same boat XD She sets off, like, all my protective instincts at the same time. 

Plus she's a cute cat girl, I have weaknesses.

Blake B.   
Clearly

<3 <3 <3 

_Korra changed the group name to 'Catra's Harem'_

Asami Sato  
…

Lolololol

Korra  
Where's the lie tho? 

Besides, she's super cute

Blake B.   
Apparently

So what's the date night plan?

Blake B.   
Nice dinner out maybe? 

Korra  
My vote's dancing

Blake B.   
On a Sunday? 

Republic City nightlife is 24/7, 365. The city never sleeps or shuts up lol

Korra  
Yang’s right. If you can't find a party in downtown RC, you're not trying

Asami Sato  
I suppose dancing could be fun. I just want an excuse to dress up. 

I know a guy who runs a club on the south side. I could probably call in a favor and get us on the short list.

Blake B.  
Junior?

Yup!

Blake B.   
Isn't he kind of shady? 

Oh he's fine. He's just a big guy who likes having a scary reputation.

Korra  
I am very into this

Blake B.  
You would be 

Korra   
;) 

Asami Sato  
Sounds like fun <3

Blake B.   
Oh, alright then

Asami Sato  
Where are you @Blake? 

Blake B.   
Library. Just needed to take care of a few things. 

Asami Sato  
Why don't I meet you at Plaza North? Dancing is an excellent excuse for dress shopping, don't you think? 

My treat <3 

Blake B.   
Mmm, sounds an awful lot like a bribe 

Asami Sato   
That's because it is one <3 

Blake B.   
Well, if you insist 

Asami Sato  
I do

Blake B.   
You're sweet <3 

Korra   
Oh get a room you two 

Asami Sato  
If I'm remembering my night clubs correctly, that could be arranged 

Blake B.   
I wouldn't complain

Besides, you're one to talk

Why don't we all admit it's been too long lol

_Korra changed the group name to 'Catra's Very Thirsty Harem'_

_Korra changed the group name to 'Catra's Harem'_

Korra  
Didn't feel good about that joke lol

Asami Sato  
I suppose while we're on the subject: when are we planning to tell them? 

We should do it soon. This week honestly.

I never felt particularly good about hiding it, but I feel even worse now that I know Catra a little better.

Blake B.   
I still think it was for the best. 

Sure, but they deserve to know.

Korra  
Yeah 

Asami Sato  
Agreed

House meeting later this week? Tomorrow evening, or Tuesday maybe? 

Adora's working tomorrow night, so Tuesday

Blake B.   
That should be fine, Catra's working a mid Tuesday

Asami Sato  
Tuesday it is 

Great. Gives us plenty of time to figure out what the fuck we're going to say lol

Korra  
Speaking of figuring things out, any ideas how to keep Adora busy this afternoon? 

OH! Yeah, actually, could you swing by a pet store? We need a few things. 

Korra  
Like what? Naga has plenty of food 

Ummm, a litter box, some food dishes, cat food, maybe a scratching pad or something. 

Korra  
......um

Did I not mention? We adopted a stray cat. Catra named her Melog, after her D&D panther. 

Isn't that cute? =D

Asami Sato  
You adopted a what now?


	6. Date Night, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a little help from Yang and the others, Catra has set up what she hopes will be a nice night for her and Adora to enjoy. But reminiscing about the past drags up painful memories, and regrets, for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there's that explicit rating I warned was coming! I knew I'd find it around here somewhere. 
> 
> I can't seem to write a modestly-lengthed chapter to save my life, so I hope you guys like long reads XD As always, feedback and comments really make my day, I love hearing back from all of you! I really hope you like this one. Hopefully the next chapter won't be too long of a wait.
> 
> Enjoy!

Despite Yang’s assurances, Catra had misgivings about introducing Melog to a dog whose whole head was roughly the size of her body. But after a sufficient amount of well-supervised mutual sniffing, Melog had licked Naga’s nose, and the massive dog had evidently decided that meant Melog was friend, not food. The two were currently curled up in the sitting room in a shaft of afternoon sunlight, Melog hunkered down into Naga’s fur.   
  
Catra watched them from the doorway fondly. She and Yang had come home and set about cleaning up the dining room. Most of last night’s feast had already been cleared away this morning, but there was still a fair amount to do. Once the floor had been swept and random packages of food stowed away, Yang had procured candles from her and Blake’s room (with permission, Catra hoped) and set them up strategically around the dining room. Then they’d given the sitting room its own once-over, making sure it was tidy and presentable. Catra had tried to insist that they had the den, and they could use that for their movie, but Yang had overridden her concerns. The downstairs television was bigger, she’d reasoned, more movie-theatre like. And the whole point was to recreate, as closely as possible, the stupid not-a-date Catra had asked Adora on all those years ago.  


It was about ten to six. The food had arrived a few minutes ago, and Catra had set it up in the dining room already. It felt a little silly to set up delivery in little paper boxes in the candlelit room, but she tried to push the thought aside. Adora would like it. Even Zella's usually omnipresent whispers were silent at the moment. Tonight would be nice. Special. Adora deserved that. 

Catra turned as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Asami and Blake had shown up at the house half an hour ago, both of them toting new dresses concealed in opaque dress bags. She’d been nervous to see both of them, but they’d greeted her normally enough. She wondered what Yang had told them, if anything, about their talk earlier.   
  
She’d introduced Melog to the pair of them and double-checked with Asami to make sure it was okay to adopt her. Asami had assured her it was, though she did ask for a little more heads up the next time she decided to adopt a pet. She even recommended the vet Korra took Naga to for her vaccinations and to give her a check up. Catra had been most nervous to talk to Asami, but if she felt any awkwardness or confusion about the night before, she didn’t voice any of it during their brief talk. Catra resolved to find time to apologize anyway, but that hadn’t seemed like an appropriate moment. Asami, Blake and Yang had swept upstairs to get themselves ready for their own night out. Dancing, apparently. That was just as well - Catra wasn’t sure nightclubs should be on her list of places to go, with all the drinking and casual drug use. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought.   
  
Her ears twitched as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. A voice drifted in from the doorway across the den from her, which led to the main staircase and the entryway. “Alright Cat, ready for a fashion show?” Yang called out, and Catra raised her eyebrows.    
  
“Do I have a choice in the matter?”   
  
“No!” three voices answered her. Catra rolled her eyes, but a small smile played across her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe that led to the dining room.   
  
Yang entered first, in a parody of a runway model. Catra fought back a laugh at the over-the-top walk, her hips swaying almost absurdly. Yang was wearing a pair of black shorts, strategically ripped in several places, as well as a black-and-white halter top that left her midriff exposed. Thrown casually over the top was an orange half jacket that looked more fashionable than functional. It was only zipped about halfway and hung off of one shoulder casually. She’d complimented her outfit with a pair of fishnet stockings and wedge heels, tall enough to put her around eye level with Asami.    
  
“What do you think?” Yang asked, doing something ridiculous with her hair as she struck a pose. Catra giggled.    
  
“Definitely party girl vibes,” she agreed.    
  
“She’s not the only one,” a silky smooth voice said from behind her as Blake entered the den next. Her dress was tight, and hugged her like a second skin. It was asymmetrical, with one long sleeve that flared slightly at the cuff. Her left shoulder and arm were left bare, the deep black of the dress contrasting with her very pale skin. The dress wasn’t particularly long, either, ending just above mid-thigh. Blake had eschewed any kind of legging, leaving miles of smooth, pale legs showing appealingly, and wore a pair of cute, practical sandals that seemed like they’d be easy to dance in.    
  
Blake draped herself over Yang, her ears quivering with amusement. The gesture made a set of silver bangles on her left wrist clink against each other. They were studded with little purple amethysts that matched the purple studs in her ears. Yang slid a hand around her waist, grinning from ear to ear. They really did make an attractive couple, and Catra had to push back a pang of jealousy at their almost effortless beauty. 

_ And speaking of effortless beauty… _

Asami followed them into the room, and in doing so, commanded the attention of everyone present. Her dress was, at once, classy and elegant while also being alluring and enticing. It was sleeveless and backless, high-necked with a small cutout just above her navel. It was longer than Blake’s, falling just above her knees, and was pleated through the very slim-fit body. Catra vaguely recalled Adora using a word to describe a similar dress she’d seen out one day. Roughing? Ruching? Something like that. It was a deep, rich red color, the same color as her lipstick and the ruby on the gold choker she wore around her slender neck. Jade earrings sparkled from either ear, bringing out the green in her eyes. 

But what stood out even more than her dress or her jewelry or her makeup was just how damn  _ tall  _ she was. If Yang had been trying to make herself Asami's height, she'd made a grave miscalculation. Asami's heels were about as tall as they could be without needing a platform. They were black, strappy things that wound their way up her calf. They weren't thick either, like Yang’s wedges, and yet Asami walked in them with a grace and poise that made it seem as though she'd been born walking in four inch stilettos. 

She paused in the center of the room, one hand on her hip, posed more casually than Yang had been. And yet, somehow hers was the stronger gesture. Catra just stared at her, trying not to gape. Asami tossed her hair nonchalantly, seemingly satisfied with the looks she was receiving and the sudden silence in the room.

Yang was the first to break the silence. "You just can't let me be taller than you, huh?" 

Asami beamed at her. "I don't know what you're talking about. These are Korra's favorite shoes." 

"I bet they are," Yang said, rolling her eyes. "Speaking of Korra, she should have been back with Adora by now."

"She just texted me, actually," Catra said. "They should be here any minute."

On cue, Catra's ear twitched as she heard the sound of Korra's key in the lock. The other three exchanged glances, then Asami swept from the room, heading for the entryway. Yang shot Catra a wink. "We'll make sure Adora's prettied up and send her your way. Have fun tonight! Do lots of things that I wouldn't do." 

Blake sighed at her girlfriend's antics, but smiled warmly at Catra, her amber eyes glittering. "Enjoy yourselves," she said, giving her a wave as Yang steered her from the room. 

Catra suddenly felt like her stomach was full of butterflies. She glanced one more time at Melog and Naga. Naga had lifted her head and sniffed the air when Korra had opened the door, but clearly not sensing danger, she'd laid her massive head back on her pillow. Melog had perked up as well, glancing towards the front door, where a commotion could be overhead. She heard Yang and Blake shepherding Adora upstairs, ignoring her protests and desires to meet the new kitty.

Catra slid down the short hall and into the dining room. She took a lighter and lit the candles Yang had set up, switching off the overhead light when she was done. It certainly made for nice ambience, she had to admit. She suddenly wished she'd thought to have music of some kind as well, but it was a little late for that. 

She checked her reflection in a mirror Asami kept on the mantle. She'd managed to get her hair to behave at least, though she still wished it was longer. She fiddled with the collar of her shirt. Catra wouldn’t have said she had much in the way of ‘nice’ clothes. Nice clothes cost money that she and Adora hadn’t had when they’d moved to Brightmoon together. It had been the generosity of her friends that had gotten them through the first few months away from Zella and put them back on their feet. 

She remembered Bow helping her pick out these clothes. For nice occasions, he’d said. She’d barely known him then. She was wearing a pair of dark maroon pants, slim fitted but definitely off the rack, and a matching vest. Her button up shirt was a lighter shade of burgundy, and was just a hair too big for her. She picked nervously at the sleeves, then, deciding that it would just be her and Adora for the rest of the night, unbuttoned them and rolled them up carefully. The last thing she wanted was to drag a cuff through take out. 

Catra had a hard time finding clothes she’d liked in the women’s section, and had ended up shopping mostly from men’s wear. She didn’t particularly think she had the body for dresses anyway. While her housemates all had the soft curves that made feminine clothes appealing, Catra was made from sharp angles that made dresses look shapeless and boring. Besides, how were you supposed to move in a dress? Much less heels.   
  
Once her sleeves were rolled up and she undid an extra button on her shirt, she felt more comfortable. Or at least, more like herself. She paced around the dining room restlessly. She really shouldn’t feel this nervous. She and Adora had been together for almost a year now. Dinner and a movie should be standard fare by this point.    
  
Except...well, it wasn’t. Catra thought about it, and could only conjure a handful of actual dates they’d been on in all the time they’d been together. And maybe one of them had called for an occasion for them to dress up. And  _ that  _ one had been a double date with Bow and Glimmer the week before they’d left for Republic City.

_ Gods, I really am the worst. _

She could make excuses. Adora was her first real relationship, she had more intimacy issues than a feral wolverine, she was about as in touch with her feelings as the average marble statue, etcetera. But none of that really excused the fact that Adora deserved to be treated nicely on at least a semi-regular basis. Maybe she should suggest some kind of date night arrangement? Was that too formal? Or too gushy? Catra sighed. She really had no idea how to be a good girlfriend.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of footsteps coming from the entryway. There were sounds of conversation and taunts as the others bid Adora goodnight. She blushed at what was clearly a suggestive 'have fun' from Asami. Then, there was the sound of footsteps coming down the hall towards her. She looked up and felt her heart flutter in her chest. Adora poked her head in the door, her expression confused and curious. Catra watched as her blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the candles, then the paper take out containers, and finally Catra herself. She blushed, but tried to borrow a hint of Asami's self-confidence. 

"Hey Adora," she said in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. Adora's eyes widened. 

"Catra…did you do all this?" 

Catra rolled her eyes, smirking at her girlfriend. "Actually, Naga set it up. You should have seen her light the candles. Took her all afternoon." 

Adora raised an eyebrow. Why did everybody seem to be able to do that so easily? She entered the room, and Catra sensed a hint of nervous energy in her movements. Like Catra, Adora didn't have a wide selection of nice clothes. She'd picked this particular dress out to match Catra's attire a few months ago. It was a high neck, sleeveless a-line dress, with some slight ruffling around the hem. She was wearing a pair of earrings Catra had bought for her, little gold ones with blue gems. They weren't real gold, and the 'gems' were probably colored glass, but Adora wore them anyway. She was grateful that the others hadn't put Adora in heels. She had on a pair of plain black flats instead, keeping her only modestly taller than Catra rather than insultingly taller. 

"You know," Adora said with a crooked smile, "you're not nearly as funny as you think you are." 

Catra closed the distance between them. "I'm hilarious, actually. You just can't appreciate it because it's always at your expense." She slid her arms around Adora's neck and kissed her gently. Adora made a soft noise somewhere in her throat as she kissed her back. 

"Well, tell Naga that this was incredibly thoughtful," she murmured, their lips not quite parting. "I'm lucky to have someone who treats me as well as her hanging around." 

Catra blushed but kissed her back in acknowledgment. They parted, Adora's eyes sparkling, that big stupid grin Catra loved so much plastered on her face. "So what's for dinner?" she asked. “I’m starving.”

Catra showed her and, predictably, Adora began to gush. "Catra! This is so sweet!" she said as they seated themselves. They sat across the short end of the table from each other, a candle between them as Catra opened up the take out containers one at a time. She clumsily served Adora from two of the boxes, one with dumplings and steamed vegetables, the other mild noodles that she was certain Adora would still think were spicy. Adora watched her the whole time, her face almost embarrassingly sappy. 

"What?" Catra asked as she started serving herself. Her own noodles were much hotter. She liked the burn. Adora's smile brightened. 

"You remembered my order," she said. "Even after all these years?"

Catra blushed and shrugged as she sat. She picked up her chopsticks and speared a dumpling on the end of them. "I went over this night in my head a lot," she said in what she hoped was a light tone. "It’s dumb, but I just wanted things to be perfect, you know? I spent a lot of time wondering if I could have done anything differently, or if you would have liked something else more. I wished I’d been able to take you somewhere nicer or that I’d held your hand when we were walking to the theater, that kind of thing. So, yeah, I pretty much remember all of it.” Catra was blushing deeply, and she pushed her food around her plate with her chopsticks.

“I thought about it a lot, too,” Adora admitted and Catra looked up at her. She met her gaze, steady and strong like she always was. “I used to think about all of the things I should have told you that night. I thought about all the times I should have told you how I felt. But mostly I just thought about you. About getting to be with you without any other distractions or anybody else interfering. I don’t know if you fully appreciate how much that meant to me.”   
  
Catra swallowed past a lump in her throat. “It meant a lot to me, too. I wish we’d gotten to do more things like that.”   
  
Adora smiled gently. “There are a lot of things I wish had happened differently. But it’s all in the past, now. We’re here. We have each other. That’s all that matters.”   
  
She looked away to start on her own food, and Catra watched her for a moment before following suit. They ate in silence, the familiar taste of the food a nostalgic comfort. Predictably, Adora started to sweat after a couple of bites, and Catra took pity on her, pouring her a glass of sparkling, non-alcoholic cider she and Yang had picked up on the way home. Adora took it from her gratefully.

“You’re such a wuss,” Catra said as she slurped a mouthful of her much hotter dish. Adora fanned herself slightly.    
  
“Am not!” Adora said. “You just burned off all your tastebuds years ago.” Catra raised her eyebrows at her then took another deliberate bite. That made Adora giggle and Catra felt a giddy sensation in her stomach. She loved making her laugh.    
  
She swallowed and drank a little of her own beverage as a concession to the heat that was building up on her tongue. “You make a mess out of me,” Catra said. Adora cocked her head.   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
Catra pushed her food around her plate some more. She hadn’t really meant to say anything, she’d just...spoken. She tried to find the words to convey what she felt. It took her a minute, but Adora was patient with her.    
  
“I mean...I’m a mess around you. I don’t know what to say. Or I say too much maybe. I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t feel like myself when I’m with you. I’m all twisted up. I just want to make you laugh, or make you smile, and nothing else really matters. I want to touch you and hold your hand and be one of those stupid, mushy couples you see in dumb movies. But instead of doing that, I get defensive when you try to protect me, or angry when you try to make me feel better…” her eyes traced Adora’s jawline down to her neck, where the shadow of the bruise she’d left the night before could be seen peeking out of the high collar of her dress. She didn’t even want to know how much concealer Adora had used that morning.    
  
Adora’s hand went to her neck, brushing against the skin as she followed Catra’s gaze with her fingers. “Catra,” she said softly, but Catra couldn't seem to make herself shut up.   
  
“The person I want to be with you always gets tripped up by the person I  _ am _ . And the result is...a mess. I lash out. I hurt you. I shouldn’t, but I don’t always feel like I can stop myself.” She looked down. "I guess...I just want you to know that I'm trying. I'm sorry I'm not what you deserve, but I'm trying to be. And I'm really sorry about…well, last night for starters." 

She felt Adora take her hand and she gripped it back, looking at where they met rather than her eyes. When Adora spoke, it was gentle, consoling. 

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that," she said softly. "That you're not what I deserve. You know I don't think about you that way. Not even close." 

Catra swallowed again, residual heat still burning the back of her throat. Or maybe she was just getting emotional again. "It feels like you should," she said. 

"Well, I don't," Adora said, her tone slightly more emphatic, but no less gentle for it. "That's not how relationships work. It's not about who deserves what or anything like that. It's about loving each other, supporting each other. It's about companionship and trust and so much more than what anyone  _ deserves _ ." Catra looked up at her. Adora's expression was earnest, almost desperately so. 

"But I don't always do that," she said, her heart sinking. She looked at the food in front of them again. She was ruining it. This was supposed to be a nice night, not another of her pity parties.

Adora squeezed her fingers, bringing Catra's gaze back to hers. "You supported me when I said I wanted to move to Republic City," she said. "You supported me when I said we should move, with minimal savings I might add, to one of the most expensive and notoriously difficult cities to live in. You supported me when I said we should move into this house, with Yang and the rest, despite knowing none of them. You've been with me every step of the way for almost nine months."

"And how many of those have you spent dragging me through rehab or watching me relapse or skip meetings or be a general pain in the ass?" Catra said sharply.    
  
“More than a few,” Adora said, without raising her voice. “Those were my times to be there for you. That’s how this works. Give and take.”   
  
Catra bit back another sharp retort and took a deep breath. She tried to relax. She tried not to ruin something else for once. When she spoke, she spoke slowly and carefully.   
  
“I feel like I take more than I give,” she said. “You give so damn much, and so completely. And there are times that I want to give you back everything you give me. But...I can’t. Or I don’t know how.”   
  
Adora squeezed her fingers. “This is really nice,” she said, indicating to the candles around them. Catra felt the corner of her mouth twitch.

“I guess,” she admitted. 

Her tiny smile made Adora’s smile brighter. “You know, I always wanted to ask you before...but how did you afford all of this back then? You know, going out, the movie tickets, all of it. It’s not like Zella was a big believer in allowance.”

She was right about that. Catra never knew exactly how much money they’d had growing up. Zella seemed to have enough to provide them with necessities. They never went hungry - at least, not for lack of food in the house - and they had some basic luxuries like television and internet growing up, restricted though their access to them might have been. And of course, she’d always had enough for their soccer gear, though she complained endlessly about Catra’s need for custom-made cleats as she grew. Yet she had been very stingy when it came to recreational funds. More than once, she’d suggested they get part-time jobs if they wanted money that badly, though endless practice and school made that an impractical notion at best. 

Catra blushed a little. “Promise you won’t think too badly of me?” Adora raised her eyebrows, but she nodded. Catra sighed. “At first, I just started eating less at school and hiding the money I didn’t spend. That worked for a while, but it was slow. So...I started taking money from Zella’s purse. I’d sneak out of my room late at night, or rifle though it when she wasn’t in the room.” Adora’s eyes widened.   
  
“You did?” She sounded awestruck.

Catra frowned. “You promised not to think badly of me. Besides, it was just a few lien at a time, never enough for her to notice.”

Adora’s mouth was open slightly and Catra made to pull her hand back, looking away in shame. But she felt Adora’s grip tighten on her. “Catra, I don’t think any worse of you, not at all! How could I? You did that for me? You know what she would have done to you if she’d caught you!”   
  
Catra shrugged a shoulder. “What, beat me? Deny me a meal or two? She already did plenty of that. What’s one more punishment, more or less?”

Adora withdrew her hand, looking down. Catra felt her stomach drop. Had she said something wrong? She shouldn't have told her. Or she should have made something up. Was she mad at her? Panic made her chest feel tight. 

"You shouldn't have done that for me," Adora said. Her voice was small. "She would have been furious."

Catra frowned. The sense of panic slowly began to fade, but the worry chewing at her stomach didn't. "So what? She was pissed at me all the time." 

Adora didn't say anything for a moment. She ate in pensive silence. "It was my fault," she finally said. "It was my fault she treated you like that." 

Catra scoffed, but it didn't soothe her nerves. She didn't like the edge of despair in Adora's tone. "Don't be stupid. You didn't make her into a heinous bitch." 

“Didn’t I?” she said softly. “I knew exactly what kind of person Zella was. I knew the games she played. I knew she was pitting us against each other, rewarding me for being better than you.” Her voice turned bitter, which alarmed Catra. “I could have tried a little less. I could have had an off game, or a bad practice. But I didn’t. Not once.”   
  
Catra looked away from her. An old, ugly hatred flared in her chest for a moment, and the scars on her arms seemed to burn once more. She’d had similar thoughts, in some of her darker moments. Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to speak. “She would have known,” she said, a little more tersely than she meant. “You were a damn prodigy, Adora, and everyone knew it. Besides, you were always a terrible liar.”   
  
Adora let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, those are the excuses I told myself, too.” She shook her head and she and Catra looked at each other again. “But that’s not why I didn’t do it. I tried my hardest, every single damn day because...I was scared. I didn’t want her to be mad at me, I couldn’t bear the thought of her treating me the way…” she choked off, squeezing her eyes shut. Catra looked down.   
  
“The way she treated me,” she finished for Adora, who nodded, a tear rolling down one cheek.    
  
“I was so scared of her, Catra,” she said, and the tears began to flow more freely now. “She  _ terrified  _ me. I tried so hard to keep her happy, to do everything she said. I did everything I could to be the perfect daughter.

“But you didn’t.” She opened her eyes, and the tears in them seemed to make their blue color more intense. “You were so much stronger than I ever was. You stood up to her, you pushed back. You drove her crazy.” Adora made a sound that was half a sob and half a laugh. “I admired you so much for that.”

Catra allowed herself a small smile. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that if you hadn’t been looking out for me, you know.” The smile faded. “Why did you? If you were so afraid of her, why risk pissing her off by helping me?”   
  
Adora shrugged. “Because I loved you. And I felt like it was my fault in the first place.” She blushed, and Catra knew she was blushing as well. “I thought that was the reason you didn’t come with me to Brightmoon,” she said, averting her eyes. “I thought you hated me. That you blamed me for never going easy on you.”   
  
Catra thought about that for a while. She toyed with her food, trying to think through everything Adora had said. It was...strange. Catra had never even considered that Adora had been afraid of Zella. She’d always seemed so untouchable. Adora was, well, invincible. She always had been.    
  
Except she wasn’t. In her own way, she’d been just as miserable as Catra. Oh sure, Catra had been plenty afraid of Zella, but there was only so long you could be afraid of something so constant in your life. She’d taken everything their foster mother had dished out. She’d been beaten down, physically and mentally, and she’d let it harden her. Maybe that could be considered strength, but it didn’t feel like it.   
  
“I wanted to,” Catra heard herself say after a pregnant pause. “I really wanted to. But I couldn’t. Which was worse, sometimes.” She felt her eyes burn and she didn’t fight the tears that fell. They felt hot on her cheeks. “I came close, sometimes. Especially when I-” she cut off, flexing the fingers of her right hand. Adora’s eyes followed the motion, her gaze falling on the scars there. “I barely passed senior year. It was like someone had torn a hole in my chest where you were supposed to be. I was so angry at you...but I couldn’t make myself  _ hate  _ you.” 

Adora tore her gaze from the scars on Catra’s arm. “It sure sounded like you hated me,” she said. “That first summer, the one I came home for.”   
  
Catra took a ragged breath. “I know. I wanted you to think I didn’t miss you. Or that I didn’t need you. But...well, that was the hardest time for me. It almost felt like I had you back.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then forced herself to continue. “I almost went with you after that. I wanted to, at least.”

  
“Why didn’t you?” There was a shadow of a plea in Adora’s voice that made Catra’s heart ache.   
  
Catra shook her head. “Zella changed after you left. She hated that you’d applied to a school abroad without her knowing about it. She couldn’t stop you leaving, but she could sure as hell stop me. I didn’t get to go online unsupervised, she made me give her access to my email so she knew who I was talking to. And if I’d somehow managed to get around all of  _ that _ , she was careful to make sure I didn’t have the means or the funds to pay for the application.” She shook her head. “Even if I had been good enough for Beacon, which I still don’t think I was, I couldn’t have applied. Without a school to go to, or a place to stay, or any money to my name...I was stuck. Trapped there.” She heard the bitterness in her own voice and saw Adora flinch out of the corner of her eye.   
  
“I…” she said, trailing off. “I’m so sorry, Catra.”   
  
Catra shrugged. “Like you said, it’s in the past. I got out.” She wiped the tears from her face. “You came home. Things worked out. All it took was a life-changing accident, a near-death experience and the end of your athletic career.” 

Silence fell upon them, heavy and awkward. Catra bit her lip. The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity before she heard Adora’s chair scrape across the dining room floor. She heard her get to her feet, walk around the table. She closed her eyes. She was leaving. Catra wasn’t surprised. She’d crossed a line. She should have shut up ages ago. How had they gotten here? This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted Adora to feel appreciated, not wallow in their horrible home life or all the misfortune she’d had to suffer. She clenched her fists.   
  
She heard the chair beside her move and opened her eyes. Adora was next to her, her blue eyes still wet with tears as she drew her close. Catra let her, holding her so tightly she was certainly making breathing difficult. She let out a small sob, her shoulders shaking as she did. They stayed like that, just holding each other, alone in the dimly lit dining room. Catra didn’t know how long she sobbed into Adora’s shoulder. She didn’t know how long Adora cried into hers. It felt like hours had passed by the time they parted, Adora’s hand cupping her cheek as she stared into her mismatched eyes.   
  
“I would trade it all again,” she said, her voice steady despite everything. “No question.”   
  
Catra looked back at her, looking for any trace of doubt in her expression. She couldn’t find any. “How can you say that?” she said. “How can I possibly be worth that?”   
  
Adora didn’t say anything. She just kissed her, and Catra kissed her back. She clung to her, desperate for an anchor, for something to hold on to. Her lifeline. Her rock in the storm. Adora rested her forehead against Catra’s as they parted, her eyes closed.    
  
“This is where I’m meant to be,” she said simply. “This is where I’ve always been meant to be. With you. I can’t explain it any more than that.”   
  
Catra swallowed and blinked back more tears. “I’m not as strong as you think I am,” she said, her voice so soft she didn’t think Adora would have heard if they hadn’t been so close. Adora let out a very small laugh.   
  
“You’re right.” She opened her eyes and the look she gave Catra made her breath catch in her chest. “You’re so much stronger.”   
  
Catra laughed, a strangled little sound that caught in her throat. “You have to stop saying things like that. I’m a mess, I’m such a fucking mess.”   
  
“So what?” Adora said. There was a gleam in her eyes, a kind of wild determination that came over her. “So you’re a mess. You’re still here. You’re still alive. You’re clean, and sober, and you have a life and a job and friends and a girlfriend and all those normal things that some people who  _ didn’t  _ have to fight like hell every minute of their lives for twenty years  _ don’t have _ . You are an incredible person, Catra. You inspire me. And I don’t care if you don’t feel like you deserve that, or deserve me, or whatever, because you deserve  _ everything _ you have and more. And I will never stop loving you, and being here for you, and supporting you because you  _ are  _ worth that. You are worth loving. And I hope one day you believe that as strongly as I do.”

Catra didn’t know what to say to that. She felt a powerful emotion in her chest that she couldn’t have even begun to describe. She was breathing as if she had just sprinted half a mile. Her world was reduced to Adora’s face and Adora’s smile and Adora, Adora, Adora.    
  
Maybe, she allowed herself to think fleetingly, just maybe, Adora was right. Maybe she wasn’t just dead weight in this relationship after all. She took a long, deep breath. She had a faint headache from crying, and she was sure the minimal makeup she’d applied earlier was ruined, if the mascara running down Adora’s face was any indicator.    
  
“I love you,” she managed to say without bringing on a fresh wave of tears, and she tried to put all the gratitude and depth of emotion behind the three tiny, inadequate words she could. Adora smiled at her.    
  
“I love you too,” she said, and Catra knew she’d understood.    
  
They spent a few minutes laughing at how silly they looked and cleaning themselves up. There was nothing to be done about the damp spots on both of their shoulders, but they spent some time in the guest bathroom dabbing away running makeup. Catra felt...lighter. Breathing felt easier. Their talk hadn’t fundamentally changed her - that just wasn’t the way things worked - but for tonight at least, she was able to quell the insecure voice that had been prodding the back of her mind ever since she’d decided to set this date night up in the first place. She could laugh easier. She didn’t feel quite so tangled up inside. 

Catra was satisfied with her look before Adora was, and she went to the kitchen to heat up the last of their food in the microwave so that they could finish their dinner. She poked more fun at Adora’s lack of heat tolerance, and Adora accused her of getting her the spicy noodles and pretending they were mild. Which, inevitably, led to Catra inviting Adora to try her food. This ended...predictably.   
  
Catra leaned on the kitchen counter while Adora drank milk straight from the carton. “I did try to warn you,” she said, her tail thrashing with amusement. Adora surfaced from the carton, gasping. She was read in the face, her nose running. Somehow, she was still the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Stupid, gorgeous Adora.   
  
She took pity on her and dug out the ice cream she’d gotten for later. A bowl (and a few extra spoonfuls later) and Adora was coherent again, apologizing for her baseless accusations.    
  
“This was really nice,” Adora said as they cleared away the few dishes they’d used and packed up the leftovers in the fridge.    
  
Catra twitched an ear. “What do you mean ‘was’? If you recall, we didn’t just have dinner that night.”   
  
Adora furrowed her brow in a way that was really just too cute, and Catra took her hand, leading her to the sitting room. Catra scanned the room as they entered, noticing that Naga and Melog had made themselves scarce, which was probably just as well. She looked back over her shoulder at Adora, in time to see comprehension dawn on her face. Catra took the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. A few screens later, a white face with six glowing, red eyes filled the screen, the title  _ Demon of the Deep _ superimposed over it.    
  
“Oh gods,” Adora said, her face splitting into another wide smile. “I thought you  _ hated  _ this movie!”

Catra shrugged. “It wasn’t as scary as I wanted it to be.”   
  
“Yeah?” Adora said, giving her a meaningful look. “You wanted scarier?”   
  
Catra blushed lightly, but didn’t look away. “I may have wanted you to grab onto me when you got scared. Guess I should have asked Blake’s opinion.”   
  
Adora ‘hmm’d’ as she drew closer to Catra. “Those apathy things were a lot scarier than the monster in this one.”   
  
“Right?” Catra agreed, putting a hand on Adora’s waist. “Plus the ending is a total deus ex machina. Magic girl unlocks her powers at the last minute?” She shrugged. “But a re-do is a re-do.”   
  
Adora’s eyes were half-closed as she placed a hand on Catra’s chest, over her heart. “Well, if we’re going to re-do it,” she said, her voice dropping into a slightly lower register that made Catra’s ears perk up to catch every word, “then maybe I’ll just have to grab onto you when it gets scary. You know, make up for lost time.”   
  
Catra’s throat felt a little dry, but she hid it pretty well, giving Adora a slow smile in return. She kissed her, as gently as she could, then gave her a light shove towards the couch. She turned on the spot, feeling Adora’s eyes on her as she switched off the light and took her own seat. Adora leaned into her immediately, and Catra’s arm went around her shoulder, holding her close as she started the movie.    
  
They watched about ten minutes of it uninterrupted. Adora’s hand had begun to slide up and down Catra’s thigh in a way that was wholly unconducive to sitting quietly and watching a movie. Still, she thought she had been managing pretty well until Adora’s free hand began to tug at the buttons of her shirt. She looked down at her, giving her an amused look.    
  
“Can I help you?” Catra said, unable to keep a low purr out of her voice even as Adora pushed the collar of her shirt back a little.    
  
“Nope,” Adora said, kissing Catra’s collar bone, then trailing kisses down her chest. Catra inhaled sharply and felt her eyes slide closed.   
  
“You know, this isn’t the scary part yet,” she said, breathless.    
  
Adora made a noncommittal noise. “The military lady shouted at someone. I got startled,” she said against Catra’s skin. 

“Oh,” Catra breathed, leaning her head back against the couch cushion as both of Adora’s hands turned to unbuttoning her shirt and vest. She hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, something that suddenly seemed more like brilliant planning than simple laziness. Adora’s lips stayed clear of her most sensitive spots, kissing the tops of her breasts and around her collar until she had undone the very last button. She slid her clothes open sensually, and suddenly her warm lips vanished.    
  
Catra opened her eyes and was treated to the sight of Adora, sitting up now, framed by the light of the huge television behind her. She was looking at her bare chest in a way that her distinct lack of curves definitely didn’t justify.

She mentally kicked herself for the self-depreciating thought.  _ Adora says you’re worth loving,  _ she reminded herself. And as if to prove it, Adora hiked up her dress - a motion that reminded Catra unhelpfully of how Asami had done something similar the night before - and slid into her lap. Catra could only look up at her as Adora let down her blonde hair, letting it fall over her shoulders in a sheet of gold, made silver by the interplay of light and darkness around her. She leaned down and kissed Catra deeply, her tongue slipping past Catra’s lips without a moment’s hesitation.    
  
Catra felt her chest begin to rumble as she purred, and she blushed. She’d always found the involuntary sound to be embarrassing, but Adora clearly took it as encouragement. She slid her fingers into Catra’s hair, holding her close, fingers running over her scalp as she moaned slightly into the kiss. Catra slid her hands around Adora’s waist in response, running her fingers over the hard lines of her muscles beneath her dress as Adora’s hips began to move against her.   
  
Catra was breathless, flushed, and purring deeply when Adora broke the kiss. She tried not to audibly gasp as Adora trailed kisses from her collar, up the side of her neck in what could only have been a direct parallel to what Catra herself had done to Adora during the game the night before. But instead of biting her or sucking on her neck, she continued trailing light kisses until she was kissing Catra just behind the ear. Catra could hear Adora’s heavy breathing, could practically hear the beat of her heart.    
  
“You’re so beautiful,” Adora whispered, silky soft, right into her ear. Catra arched her back, fingers digging into Adora’s waist where she held her. She heard herself whimper. That’s when Adora slid her hands to her chest, tracing her soft, strong fingers over her breasts, circling her nipples with slow, deliberate motions.    
  
“I love you,” she whispered again, and this time, she caught one stiff nipple between her fingers, rolling it, twisting it just a little. The sensation combined with Adora’s words and made her dizzy. She had to remind herself not to flex her claws and shred Adora’s dress as she drew her closer against her, quiet desperation etched in every taught line of her body.   
  
“Adora,” she heard herself say as she tried to move her own hips against her. “Please…” It was all she could manage as Adora’s soft, warm lips kissed her throat and made conscious thought very difficult for a few seconds.   
  
“But Catra,” Adora said, her lips returning to whisper delicately into her ear, “we still have so much of the movie left...I want to take my time thanking you for how  _ thoughtful  _ you were. How sweet all of this was.” She kissed her, and it was inexcusable how damn good Adora was at kissing her. Maybe it was just because Catra had never kissed anyone besides Adora. It didn’t seem important at the moment. Catra tried to take a little control, seeking Adora’s lower lip to suck and nibble, the way she knew drove her girlfriend crazy, but Adora was too quick for her, moving down to kiss her neck before she could catch her.   
  
Adora’s hands were roaming lower and lower, tracing over Catra’s stomach, brushing over her waist and the bare curve of her hips before returning to caress and tease her sensitive breasts. Catra was having a hard time thinking straight. Every now and then she’d try to gather enough mental fortitude to string together a coherent thought, but then Adora would whisper how perfect she was, how beautiful she looked, how much she loved her, and the thoughts broke apart again because nothing was more important than the soft way Adora spoke to her. 

She felt like a starving woman, surviving for so long on scraps and bone, barely holding out day to day. Some part of Adora must have known that, must have known just how desperate Catra was for praise, for attention, for love. And Adora was eager to give it to her.    
  
“Catra,” she moaned into her ear, and the sound of her own name, dripping with desire and love and so many other things Catra had convinced herself she didn’t need or even want for so long, was enough to bring tears to her eyes. “I love you,” Adora continued. “I  _ want  _ you.  _ I need you _ .” Catra heard herself let out an involuntary moan, her body arching again, pressing her breasts into Adora’s hands needily.    
  
“Adora,” she groaned, dragging her name out into a long, pleading whine. She was merciless. It wasn’t fair. Catra  _ needed  _ so damn much she felt like something inside of her was going to burst.   
  
Adora giggled in response and the sound made her stomach do flips and brought what Catra was sure was a stupid-looking smile to her own lips. She had the most adorable little giggle. Adora hummed in her ear and that was its own mind-numbing sensation. “I suppose you do  _ deserve  _ a little bit of release,” she said. Some dim part of Catra saw what she was doing, but she was just too worked up to  _ care  _ at the moment. Especially as Adora began to trail her kisses lower, and lower, over the tops of her breasts, dragging her tongue down and down until…   
  
Her lips closed around her dark nipple and Catra groaned insistently as she sucked and kissed her. Her hands flew to Adora’s hair, tangling in it, urging her to do that more, gods she wanted more. Her body  _ ached _ and she heard Adora’s name tumbling from her lips again and again and again. Adora lifted her mouth only to find a new place to kiss her, or to flick her tongue across the hard tip of her breast, sometimes once, sometimes again and again, so many quick little bursts of lightning across her senses that it made Catra forget where she was. 

But over the course of the next few minutes, Adora’s kisses grew slower, gentler, softer. Catra wanted  _ more _ , but Adora seemed to be intent on slowing the pace of things. She growled and tried to pull her dress off, to reverse their positions, anything, but Adora was just too damn  _ strong _ for her. She held Catra at bay with almost laughable ease, and she struggled ineptly beneath her as she kissed and teased her. When Catra’s heart rate had slowed from utterly insane to simply ludicrous, she opened her eyes. Adora was hovering over her, her blue eyes huge and dark, but patient at the same time.    
  
“How do you feel?” Adora asked with a teasing little tone in her voice that she could never in a hundred years have done intentionally. Catra growled again.    
  
“Horny,” she said, bluntly, and Adora laughed her beautiful little laugh.    
  
“Good,” she said, and she ran her hands through Catra’s hair, scratching her lightly just behind her ears. Catra groaned, the touch not necessarily sexual, but her whole body was just screaming  _ that loudly  _ for more. It didn’t seem to care what exactly that ‘more’ entailed.    
  
After a minute or so of gently playing with her hair, Adora slid from her lap, re-adjusted her skirts, and sat next to her on the couch. On screen was some banal scene between the human characters as they saw a flashing red blip on the radar, indicating the monster was swimming closer to shore.   
  
Catra tried to take a few breaths to steady herself. Her vest and shirt were still open, pushed a little down her arms by Adora to give her better access. She shrugged them more or less back into place, but did nothing to button them up. She glared at her girlfriend who was staring at her with a mischievous smile.   
  
“You’re cruel, you know that?” Catra said, and her voice sounded raspy to her own ears. Adora’s smile broadened.   
  
“Am I?” she said in a completely innocent voice that didn’t match the knowing look she was giving Catra at all. “I seem to recall you telling me earlier that I give too much.”   
  
Catra’s eyes narrowed. She tried to figure out what kind of game Adora was playing, but the heat burning in her core was making rational thought difficult. “Well, it’s true,” was all she managed to say.

Adora’s eyes flashed with something triumphant and she leaned forward. She left a ghost of a kiss on Catra’s lips before moving to whisper in her ear again.    
  
“Well, I’m not giving this time...am I?”   
  
Something not unlike a snarl ripped from Catra’s chest as she grabbed Adora’s face in her hands and kissed her. Some dim part of her was gentler than she might have otherwise been, careful of the bruise she’d left on her when she’d made her bleed the night before. But the kiss was no less  _ hungry  _ for that concession. She pressed herself against Adora, who held her in those incredibly strong arms of hers.    
  
Adora wasn’t going to give. Which meant she wanted Catra to  _ take _ .    
  
She could manage that. 

Her fingers slid around to Adora’s back, finding the zipper on her dress with ease. She opened the dress, then slid it down, exposing her to the waist. She was wearing one of her cuter bras - Yang’s idea, Catra had no doubt - but she was feeling impatient. She unhooked it with a single deft movement of a claw, drawing a look of momentary surprise from Adora as she flung it across the room. Catra pushed her down on the couch, straddling her hips and admiring her beautiful girlfriend.

Admiring Adora let her take a few deep breaths, quelling the maddening lust that was threatening to engulf her. This was a special night. No matter how much of a frenzy she was in, she wanted Adora to feel special. So instead of attaching her mouth to one of her pale pink nipples like she wanted, she flexed her fingers and began to drag the tips of her claws over her skin instead. The touch was light, but sharp, and she could see tiny white lines appear on Adora’s skin as they passed over her. She shivered at the touch, her eyes sliding closed in pleasure. The small gesture was enough to stoke the heat in Catra’s chest, and she continued the delicate exploration of her body, taking her cues from Adora’s slow, teasing attention before.    
  
It didn’t take long for Adora to start whimpering. She grinned and dug her claws a little deeper into the sensitive skin of her breasts, needlepoints of sharp sensations making Adora inhale sharply and arch her back in a beautiful parallel of Catra’s own desperation mere minutes ago. She was already leaning down as she heard the tiny “Catra, please,” slip from Adora’s lips. Her rogue tongue laved attention over her breasts as her hands slid down Adora’s sides and slipped around to her bare back. She dug the points of her nails into the hard muscles beneath her skin, and Adora responded predictably,  _ arching  _ again, a breathy moan sounding as sweet as anything she’d ever heard to Catra’s ears. She tugged one stiff nipple between her lips and sucked and nibbled on the little sensitive bud. Adora’s hands were over her head, gripping the couch cushions, her hips rocking beneath Catra as she held her down.    
  
“Now who’s impatient?” Catra said, placing long, indulgent kisses from Adora’s breasts all the way down her stomach to just below her navel where she was prevented from going further by the dress still covering her lower body. Adora made an insistent noise and slid her hands to remove the offending garment, but she couldn’t manage it with Catra straddling her. She made that insistent noise again, somewhere between a grunt and a moan. Catra let out a low laugh.   
  
“Adora, you were  _ just  _ getting on Asami and Korra’s case for making out in the sitting room,” she said, not bothering to hide the purr in her words. It was clearly doing things for Adora, and she was always happy to encourage those kinds of feelings. She placed a claw on her sternum and dragged it downwards, raising a red line between her breasts. “What leg will we  _ possibly  _ have to stand on if I tear this dress off of you and shove my tongue so deep in your pretty blonde pussy that you forget your own name?”    
  
The dirty talk just drew a more desperate noise from Adora’s throat as she bucked her hips even harder, nearly throwing Catra off of her completely. “Alright, alright, down girl,” Catra said, with another little laugh. She slid with liquid grace off the couch and stripped out of her unbuttoned shirt and vest. By the time she turned around, Adora was out of her dress, legs spread. The blue of her eyes were reduced to slender rings, her pupils wide and dark with arousal. Catra gave her a lazy smile. Something about Adora’s sudden need made her calmer, more focused. She was no less hot, far from it. But she felt more in control of herself when Adora was like this. Maybe Asami had a point about her being a top after all.   
  
Catra lowered herself back to the couch and Adora wrapped her arms around her, pressing their bodies together as she kissed her. And for a while, that was all they did, lying together in the flickering light from the ignored movie, their hands eagerly exploring each other’s bodies. Catra shifted her weight experimentally and managed to bring her hand between Adora’s legs without breaking the kiss, shoving aside her underwear (which probably matched the bra she’d so carelessly tossed across the room) and dragging her fingers across Adora’s lower lips, carefully withdrawing her claws as she did so. Adora’s gentle moans all at once became urgent, needy, her legs spreading wider in a silent plea.    
  
Catra smiled against Adora’s lips, but it was hard to resist giving her exactly what she wanted. Besides, she was here to make Adora feel special, wasn’t she? Her first finger slid inside of her effortlessly and Adora’s whole body tensed at the sensation, finally breaking their kiss. Catra wasted no time shifting her mouth to her neck, then lower, finding her breasts again. She crooked her finger and dragged it against Adora who practically screamed her name as she begged her for more.    
  
“Catra!” she cried, in a way that made her profoundly grateful that they didn’t have any close neighbors. “Harder,” Adora panted, digging her fingers into Catra as she gripped her tightly.    
  
“Harder?” Catra asked, trying her best to imitate Adora’s earlier innocence. “Are you sure?”   
  
Adora nodded her head frantically, her hips bucking as she tried to get Catra to go faster. “Yes! I need it! Please!”   
  
And oh did Catra  _ like  _ when Adora had such nice manners. That was worth rewarding, even if she had been planning to deny her. Which she never was. She could never deny Adora anything. Not when she loved her so completely. Not when she gave so freely. Adora always got what she wanted if Catra had even the slightest ability to give it to her.    
  
But it was so nice when she was polite about it.   
  
Catra sank her fangs into Adora’s breast as she slipped a second finger inside of her, and she felt Adora go rigid on the spot. Adora let out a primal sound of pure pleasure as her body began to convulse, her legs quivering with her orgasm. But Catra didn’t let up. Not even close. She sucked hungrily on her breast as she continued to work in and out of her slick, hot sex, dragging her moment of pleasure out across a minute, then another. Catra let her relax only long enough for her to bring her now wet fingers to her lips, letting Adora watch as she sucked them clean. She examined the lovely dark mark she’d made on her breast, then lowered her head to make a second as she returned her fingers to their task.    
  
Adora’s second orgasm took longer, but Catra was focused and determined, and she felt her convulsing beneath her before too long, moaning her name over and over, which Catra was pretty sure was her favorite sound in the whole damn world.    
  
She kissed Adora as her body began to relax, letting her down easily. Her kisses had the slow, lazy quality she’d come to associate with her girlfriend’s satisfaction, and she felt herself purring in contentment herself. She still burned inside, but she found it was surprisingly easy to set aside for the moment as she indulged in long, slow kisses with the woman she loved more than anything in the world. She felt like they were alone, in their own little pocket of nowhere, where the only thing that mattered was the warmth between them, and Adora’s soft, warm lips on hers. She could kiss her pleasure-drunk girlfriend for hours and hours, roommates be damned.    
  
Then, very suddenly, a deep roar from the mostly forgotten television made them both jump as the monster emerged from the bay and showed itself for the first time, to the general panic of the human protagonists. Adora and Catra met each other’s eyes and they burst into laughter at the same moment, Catra collapsing on top of Adora as the mirth robbed her limbs of strength.    
  
Adora didn’t seem to mind. As the laughter died down, she traced lazy paths across Catra’s back, making her purr softly as they watched the more interesting parts of the movie. The blazing heat had reduced to something more like a low simmer inside of her, and Catra was more than content to be held and to feel Adora’s warm, strong body beneath her as they laughed at the questionable special effects and the even more questionable actions the protagonists took as the titular demon drew ever closer to the city it threatened.    
  
But the movie lost some of its steam as it ripped the mech that was supposed to be the city’s last line of defense limb-from-limb, and Catra found herself focusing more attention on the infinitely more interesting task of leaving more little hickies on her girlfriend’s chest. Adora’s hum of satisfaction was all the encouragement Catra needed to give up on the last quarter hour of the movie completely.    
  
“You know,” Adora said, interrupting Catra who looked up from her task curiously, “it occurs to me that the others were probably not planning on being out  _ that  _ late.”   
  
Catra blinked slowly. Right. Housemates. She looked at the mostly-naked Adora beneath her and their clothes which were strewn over the floor.   
  
“What? Do you think they’d notice something?” Catra said with a smirk.    
  
“They might just,” Adora said with a laugh.   
  
Catra gave her one more kiss, then slid off of her, her legs a little shaky. Adora stood up behind her, wrapping her arms around Catra’s waist and kissing the back of her neck. “Besides,” she said in a sultry voice that made Catra’s ears perk up immediately, “it’s your turn. And I can’t  _ wait  _ to show you how grateful I am for how good you were to me…”   
  
Catra was pretty sure she couldn’t physically melt into a puddle on the floor, but just at that moment, it seemed like a distinct possibility.   
  


* * *

Catra didn’t wake suddenly. She wasn’t sure why she had woken at all, honestly. It was still dark, and the little clock on her and Adora’s nightstand indicated that it had only been a few hours since they’d come upstairs. Admittedly, Adora had made the most of their time - her legs still felt a little weak with the memory of how Adora’s mouth had made her  _ scream _ \- but even still, they couldn’t have been asleep for longer than an hour or two.    
  
Adora had rolled away from her in her sleep. Catra didn’t blame her for that. She was sticky with sweat, the warmth of the night compounding the natural consequences of their actions. Her throat also felt a little rough and dry, possibly due to the aforementioned screaming. She lay there for a few minutes, trying to fall back asleep, but the discomfort proved to be too difficult to ignore. She sighed and slid carefully out of bed. She might as well get a glass of water for Adora, too, in case she woke up in a similar state later in the night.   
  
Catra hunted around until she found her underwear. She pulled them on, then padded silently over to the window. She parted the blinds and glanced outside. Sure enough, Asami’s car was in the driveway. Odds were good that they’d all gone to bed, but on the off chance, Catra silently dressed in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt.   
  
With the kind of silence that only came with a faunus’s natural surefootedness and night vision, she crept across the room to their door and slipped out into the hall. The house was quiet as she made her way from the third floor down to the kitchen.   
  
She paused on the stairs to the entryway, her ears twitching. She thought she could hear a hushed voice coming from the kitchen, but she couldn’t make out who it was. It was nearly one in the morning, she would have thought that the others would have crashed ages ago.    
  
She crept closer, ears alert, straining to hear what was being said. She could see light spilling from the kitchen into the hall, and she was finally able to make out Asami’s voice, deliberately low, clearly trying her hardest not to be overheard.   
  
“ _ Yes _ , spirits, just like that, don’t stop, don’t you  _ dare  _ stop, slut...”   
  
Catra froze, her eyes widening. She wouldn’t have been surprised if steam had erupted from both of her ears. She’d never imagined Asami talking to Korra like that, but she couldn’t deny that it was  _ hot _ . She bit her lip and tried to convince her legs it would be a good idea to move, preferably very quietly, back towards the stairs before she was discovered eavesdropping on what was clearly a private moment. Then, someone answered Asami back, strangely muffled as they were speaking into a pillow.   
  
“Yes Mistress,” the voice groaned.   
  


Every hair on Catra’s body stood on end. The voice that had answered Asami wasn’t Korra’s, but it was definitely someone she recognized.    
  
A sick feeling twisted in her stomach as Catra stalked closer, as if someone else, someone with a perverse curiosity had seized her legs. She had to know for certain, had to see for herself.    
  
She peered into the kitchen, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head as her hand flew to her mouth. She must have made a noise, a gasp, something, because Asami’s eyes met hers. For an instant, the world seemed to stand still as she stared at her, leaned up against the counter, one hand tangled in hair that was definitely not her girlfriend’s. Her dress was hiked up around her hips. Her eyes were huge and dark and, for just a moment as they met Catra’s, terrified.   
  
Then they rolled back in her head as the moment broke. She heard Asami saying something to her partner, trying to make them stop even as her body shivered and she seemed to lean more heavily against the counter behind her. Catra felt like something in her was breaking, like something thin and fragile and so very new had been struck with a sledgehammer, shattering it into a million fractured pieces.   
  
Catra didn’t think.   
  
She just ran.


	7. Date Night, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Adora and Catra enjoy a night on their own, Asami, Blake, Korra and Yang take the opportunity to go on their first group date in nearly a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone else believe it's taken this long to really dive into the poly dynamics of the relationship in this polyamory-focused story? 
> 
> My streak of long ass chapters continues, so I hope you guys aren't tired of them yet XD Incidentally, sorry to torture those of you looking for resolution on last chapter's cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist seeing date night from the other side.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Asami checked her reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall near the front door. It rested over the little hooks that were allegedly for everyone to keep their keys, but in reality only held Naga’s leash and a collection of miscellaneous pieces of borrowed or orphaned jewelry. She knew intellectually that trying to impress Catra was irrational and more than a little vain, especially since tonight was supposed to be all about her and Adora, but, well, she was only human. 

She was only glad that the brief conversation they had earlier had gone smoothly. She had wanted to apologize profusely for her inappropriate behavior, as well as their collective insensitivity about her drinking, but she'd restrained herself. There was a time and a place for that conversation, and this was not it. 

“Alright Cat," Yang called out from just inside the doorway that led to the sitting room, "ready for a fashion show?" 

She heard Catra respond with what she had come to recognize as her characteristically dry amusement. "Do I have a choice in the matter?" 

"No!" Asami called out, with Blake and Yang responding at the exact same time. She glanced at the two of them in the mirror as they exchanged amused looks. Damn hivemind. 

Yang stalked into the sitting room, and Asami saw her hips swaying in a ridiculous parody of a runway walk as she disappeared through the doorway. She stifled a laugh, then determined her makeup was perfectly fine. She sat herself on one of the stairs and began to slip on her heels with quick, practiced motions. Blake gave her a flat look, then glanced pointedly after Yang. Asami grinned and shrugged innocently. 

"I thought they should be a surprise," she said softly. Blake matched her grin with a little one of her own, then followed Yang into the sitting room.  
  
Asami finished securing her stilettos and stood in a single, fluid motion. To say she felt comfortable in heels was something of an understatement. She’d started wearing them regularly for work when she’d assumed leadership of Future Industries after her father’s arrest. As a woman in a stereotypically male position of leadership, she already would have had a hard time commanding respect even if she hadn’t been a decade or two younger than most of her peers. Being able to look down on most of the men who answered to her was a boost to both her credibility and her own self-confidence. She was only an inch or two shy of six feet without any assistance - with it, nearly everybody she worked with had to look up to make eye contact. 

Granted, she rarely had occasion to wear shoes quite _this_ high around the office, but she had the endurance and the calves, so she might as well put them to use. 

She paused for what she deemed an appropriate amount of time, then followed her girlfriends into the den. She posed slightly in the middle of the room, tossing her shimmering black hair over one shoulder as she did. She swept her gaze over the three women, noting with satisfaction the looks on the others’ faces. Blake was giving her a half-lidded look of lazy appreciation, Yang a small frown that didn’t hide the hunger in her lilac eyes, and Catra - Asami’s stomach did a little flip - was staring at her with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Asami could just see the points of her fangs, and she _probably_ wasn’t imagining the slightly dilated look in pupils of her gorgeous blue-and-gold eyes. 

_Bad Asami_ , she chastised herself. _Quit checking out the adorable little faunus girl. Even if her head would just tuck right under your chin if she hugged you…_

Yang broke the silence - and the decidedly unhelpful direction of Asami's thoughts - with a frustrated 'hmph.'

"You just can't let me be taller than you, huh?" 

Asami gave Yang her most winning smile. In her wedge heels, she and Yang would have been eye level. She may have even been slightly taller. But now? It wasn't even close. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said with feigned innocence. "These are Korra's favorite shoes."  
  
Yang rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I bet they are,” she said, with a light note of annoyance in her voice. Asami’s smile deepened. Yang brought out something in her, a kind of hunger that was as intoxicating as it was dangerous given their current...situation, with Catra and Adora. Yang just made it too damn fun to get under her skin. 

And besides, judging by the way her eyes were glued to Asami’s legs, she was willing to bet Yang wasn’t _too_ upset at her choice of shoes.  
  
“Speaking of Korra,” Yang said with a hint of effort as she looked away from Asami and around the room, “she should have been back with Adora by now.”

“She just texted me, actually,” Catra said, fidgeting with one of her sleeves. “They should be here any minute.” As she said that, her ears perked up, and Asami could see Blake’s cat ears do the same. Asami had a mere minute to marvel at the sensitivity of faunus hearing before the door swung open and she heard Korra stumble into the entryway. Asami looked at the others, then went to go help Korra. 

She had shouldered her way into the entryway clumsily. Tucked under one arm was a litter box with a few things resting in it. Asami could make out a bag of dry cat food and a couple of toys that made light jingling noises as they jostled around in the empty litter box. In her other hand was a plastic container with litter that looked like it weighed a ton.  
  
“Hey,” Korra said, as she saw her, then did a double take as she looked Asami up and down. She whistled and Asami felt herself flush at her obvious approval.  
  
“Here, let me give you a hand,” she said, taking the litter box from its precarious position, and then following Korra as she made her way up the stairs. As she did, Adora came in with a pillowy bed that probably would have been big enough for two Melogs. It held a few small food dishes, a brush, collar and a couple other miscellaneous things.  
  
Predictably, Adora headed straight for the sitting room, but was cut off by Blake and Yang who appeared on time, corralling her away from the doorway and towards the stairs.  
  
“Awww,” Adora said as they started her up the stairs. “I want to meet the kitty!”  
  
“They’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Yang said with a laugh. “Right now, we’ve got some work to do!”  
  
Asami could hear the confusion in Adora’s voice. “What do you mean?”  
  
“You’ll see,” Blake answered her. “Let’s get this stuff stashed in the den, then the three of us have a date with your closet.”  
  
Adora began to protest and Asami stifled a laugh. She and Korra dropped off the box in the bathroom and Korra filled it before storing the rest of the pet supplies upstairs in the den.

The two of them reconvened in their room. The master bedroom of the house was very expansive, with enough room for a double vanity, a large dresser, full-length mirror and their king sized bed. They also had a walk-in closet and their own private bathroom. The furnishings were a little mixed and matched. Asami’s dark wooden furniture was complemented by the red curtains over the windows and the red in the luscious rug that was spread across the floor. Red and orange accents were scattered around the room in the collections of things Asami had taken from her family estate. Most of them were things that had belonged to her mother, and came from her homeland across the sea.

Then there were the things of Korra’s. There weren’t as many of them - Korra hadn’t brought a lot of material possessions with her when she moved to Republic City, and most of what she did have from home had been gifted to her over the years. A hand-woven blanket was folded at the end of the bed, its colors mostly blues and browns with the occasional sea green. There were also a couple of tapestries decorating the walls, hand made like the blanket. The first depicted an oasis in a frozen tundra, the water seen from above. Two koi fish circled each other in the pond, around a symbol of the moon. That one, and the blanket, had been made by Korra’s mom, Senna, in the style of their native tribe. The other tapestry was more of an heirloom, passed down to Korra by her father, Tonraq. It was more abstract, and featured a white spiritual symbol against a background woven to resemble an aurora. 

Asami kissed Korra dutifully as she entered the room after her. "Need much time to get ready?" she asked. Korra shook her head. 

"Nah, I showed at the gym. Made Adora shower, too. I figured it would expedite things." 

"Look who's thinking ahead," Asami said playfully. Korra eyed the bed. 

"I guess I'm not the only one," she said dryly. Asami had laid out an outfit for her expectantly. 

Asami beamed at her. "I thought it would expedite things," she echoed. That got a laugh from Korra who began to undress. 

Asami had picked out a pair of tight-fitted pleather leggings that made Korra’s legs and ass look amazing, as well as a blue sequined crop top with spaghetti straps that showed off the muscles in her back and shoulders. Korra picked out a black choker and a pair of genuine sapphire earrings Asami had bought her for an anniversary. Finally, she pulled on the ankle high boots Asami had picked out for her. They weren't quite as tall as Yang’s heels, but it did minimize the sudden gap between the two of them. 

Korra did a little turn on the spot, and Asami eyed her approvingly. "Damn, I'm good," Asami said, getting another laugh from her girlfriend. 

"No arguments there," she said. She put her arms around her neck and stretched up to kiss her. "Guess we should go meet up with the others, huh?"

"Probably," Asami said with only the slightest bit of regret in her voice. Korra looked damn good, and she knew it. She gave Asami a suggestive look as she slid out of her arms and to the door. 

"Oh," Asami said, remembering something, "if Yang asks, these are your favorite shoes of mine." 

Korra gave her a flat look that reminded her strongly of Blake’s. "You just love pushing her buttons, don't you?" 

Asami licked her lips. "Maybe. She's hot when she gets worked up." 

Korra smirked and shook her head, then led the way out into the hall. 

They only waited a few minutes before Blake and Yang came down from the third floor, Adora in tow. Her maroon dress matched Catra's ensemble well enough that it must have been an intentional choice when purchasing it. She looked cute, though the dress was a few years out of style. Part of her still yearned to take Adora and Catra out clothes shopping. The two of them had comparably little in terms of finer wear, she had discovered, and for good reason. Asami didn't know everything about their past - what she'd learned today had only served to prove that - but she'd stitched enough together to realize that the pair had never been well off financially. 

As was usually the case, this elicited a little pang of guilt in Asami. She had never wanted for anything as a child. While her childhood couldn't necessarily have been called perfect, she knew that she was much more privileged than the vast amount of humans in the world, much less faunus. Asami would happily have provided her new housemates with entirely new closets should they have asked, but she knew that they never would. Hell, she had already needed to deal with Adora trying to haggle her _up_ on their rent when they’d decided to move in. Asami had tried to assure them that as long as they contributed to groceries and chores around the house, she was happy to let them live there rent-free until they were more established in the city. It wasn’t as if Asami needed the money. 

Not to say that she had some kind of limitless bank account, like the press and even her board of directors seemed to believe she did. When she'd taken over Future Industries after her father's public disgrace and arrest some seven years ago, she'd sunk most of her family fortune into keeping the business from going under. Only strategic investments in advisors and staff with more experience and knowhow than she possessed, as well as a very lucky and very generous partnership with a sympathetic entrepreneur, had kept Future Industries from folding while Asami finished her education. It was only now, after a long, difficult road in which she had sold off most of her family's assets, that the business could be said to be profitable again.

And yet, despite her relative difficulties, Asami always maintained an uncomfortable awareness that she’d never had to live anything less than an upper middle class life. She didn’t take such a thing for granted, and she did her best to give in whatever way she could. Even from their first meeting, she’d known Catra and Adora were the kind of people who deserved a little bit of kindness, even if she hadn’t even begun to understand the depth of their struggles and difficulties. But she was also aware of the value of pride, and what it meant to be able to make your own way in the world, regardless of the practicality. So, Asami had let Adora haggle her from basically nothing to the dizzying heights of dirt cheap, and assured her that they could re-evaluate when she wasn’t relying on waiting tables for income.

She had restrained herself from dragging the two of them along on an extensive shopping spree in one of her favorite designer boutiques. Even if she was in the process of trying to figure out how to discreetly get their measurements so she could surprise them at the next gift-giving opportunity. 

“Looking good,” Korra said to Adora, snapping Asami out of her reverie. Adora blushed as the others offered similar compliments.  
  
“Is somebody going to explain what I’m all dressed up for?” Adora asked, glancing at the four women in the hall. They all exchanged glances.  
  
“Why ruin the surprise?” Yang asked with a wink, linking arms with Adora and heading towards the stairs. Asami shook her head and followed. Adora spent the relatively short trip down the hall and the stairs to the entryway needling Yang for information that she simply wasn’t giving up.

Large though the house may have been, the five of them were a little cramped standing around in the entryway. Yang gestured towards the door to the den. “Just head straight for the dining room, okay? Your surprise is waiting there for you.” She gave Adora a wink.  
  
“You guys have fun, okay?” Blake added. “I think you’re really going to like what Catra’s done.”  
  
Adora looked like she wanted to ask more questions but Asami silenced her with a gesture and a little laugh. “You could keep asking us for an explanation, or you could just go see for yourself what’s up.” She arched an eyebrow at her. “Unless somebody’s a little nervous?”  
  
Adora blushed. “Maybe,” she said. Korra clasped her shoulder gently.  
  
“Don’t be. Just enjoy yourself.” The others nodded in agreement.  
  
“Alright,” Adora said. “You guys have fun. You know, on your ‘double date.’” Adora put a gentle emphasis on the last two words that might have generally been accompanied by air quotes, and she shot a meaningful look at Yang. Asami’s stomach did a little flip, but she kept her expression neutral as Adora waved to them and went slowly towards the dining room. 

Yang was a light shade of pink, but the others hadn’t seemed to notice Adora’s emphasis as the four of them left, Asami locking up behind them, and headed for the car. 

Asami's Satomobile was the only possession that she had been unwilling to sell to keep her business running. It had belonged to her mother and was based on one of the original models that had put her family on the map. It had a long, low slung body with the luxurious interior of the time period, but with some modern upgrades, such as automatic drive. As much as Asami liked driving stick, doing so in heels was an unnecessary challenge at best.  
  
“Shotgun!” Yang said as they came down the steps. Asami gave her an even look, then moved to the passenger door and opened it for Blake, who gave her an amused look.  
  
“Why thank you,” Blake said, as if Yang hadn’t spoken, taking Asami’s hand as she helped her into the car.  
  
“Hey!” Yang said indignantly, making Korra laugh.

“C’mon hot stuff,” she said elbowing, Yang playfully. “You can slum it with me.”  
  
Yang shot Asami a look and she met her eyes with a deep sense of amusement. Riling Yang up was always entertaining, but it was rarely this _easy_ .  
  
This was going to be fun.

Driving in Republic City was hardly common, even out in the suburbs where they lived. The extensive network of buses and the underground subway made driving unnecessary, and parking in the city was a luxury even at the best of times. And yet, Asami liked driving too much to ever give it up completely, even if it wasn’t terribly practical. She had been the kind of girl to take her car out on long stretches of open, country road just to feel the wind whip through her hair, blasting music the whole way. She’d become her father’s youngest test-driver when she was sixteen, and a year later she was driving experimental high-speed racing cars recklessly through their practice tracks. Even in the city, where her speed was limited and they had to stop every few blocks at a stoplight, she felt more at home behind the wheel than she ever would have taking a bus or walking. 

As they made their way to the south side of the city, Blake took over the music and began to play some new age indie album she’d found recently. It wasn’t terribly high-energy, but given their destination, Asami could appreciate a little lower-key experience on their drive. She had no idea where Blake found half the music she listened to, but she was always pleasantly surprised by the things her girlfriend helped her discover. 

Even after six months of dating Blake, the faunus was something of an enigma to Asami. She’d never been involved in a relationship like this, Asami knew, which probably contributed to her somewhat closed off nature. She was less physically affectionate in general with her and Korra than she was with Yang, though Asami could understand and respect the fact that she’d known Yang much longer than them. Physical intimacy was clearly something Blake linked to deeper emotional connection. In the two months leading up to Catra and Adora moving in with them, Asami had gone out of her way to help bridge the slight gap she’d felt between herself and Blake. She’d taken her out for a few nice dinners, spent some pleasantly relaxing time walking in the cultivated gardens in The Wilds, and surprised her with tickets to a concert by one of the bands she’d turned Asami on to. They’d had more in common than Asami had initially thought - they had similar taste in art, an appreciation for the finer things in life, and a complementary sense of amused exasperation with their primaries’ antics. 

As they’d grown closer, Blake had grown more comfortable being casually physically affectionate with Asami. At the moment, Blake had drawn one of Asami’s hands into her lap, palm up, her long fingers idly caressing her palm and wrist as she stared out the window. 

In the back seat, Asami could hear Yang and Korra’s conversation turn to the topic of food.  
  
“If we don’t eat before we go, we’re going to get absolutely hammered,” Korra was saying, a note of exasperation in her voice.  
  
“And what’s wrong with that?” Yang answered.  
  
“What’s wrong is I have to teach class tomorrow. Do you have any idea what it’s like to try and do a demonstration with a hangover?”  
  
“Korra’s right,” Asami cut in before Yang could respond. “Food first. There’s got to be somewhere near Junior’s place to eat.”  
  
“Nowhere we won’t be _very_ overdressed,” Blake said dryly.  
  
“So we’ll be the center of attention,” Yang said, her opinion on food reversing instantly. Stubborn she may have been on occasion, but never let it be said that Yang was obstinate. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”  
  
“You wouldn’t,” Blake said with a trace of an amused smile on her face, but Asami could sense the tension in her shoulders, her ears quivering slightly. Asami was about to say something, but Yang beat her to it, leaning forward and around Blake’s seat.  
  
“Right, sorry,” she said, putting a hand on her arm. “You want your ribbon? I brought it just in case.”  
  
Blake considered for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” Her smile warmed by a few degrees. Back when they’d been at Beacon, Blake had apparently worn a ribbon in a bow on top of her head to conceal her cat’s ears - her only identifiable faunus trait. She’d mostly stopped wearing it during her time living in Mistral alone, but Asami knew that she’d started wearing it again at work. Republic City liked to make a big deal out of its progressive programs and faunus affirmation acts, but the truth was, Blake was still very much in the minority. Besides, for all of its pro-faunus sentiments, the Equalists had gotten their start here in the city, right beneath the council’s collective noses.  
  
Asami shivered involuntarily and arrested that line of thought before it could continue. She didn’t need to get worked up like that on a night that was supposed to be fun for all of them.  
  
Besides, if anybody tried to give Blake shit, she knew that Yang and Korra were more than capable of giving them a new perspective on things. And Asami never went anywhere without the little taser that fit in her purse. Protective instincts were something of a theme amongst their group.

Asami squeezed her hand assuringly, and she saw Blake relax in the corner of her eye.  
  
“I love you guys,” she said quietly. Asami brought Blake’s hand to her lips and kissed the back of it.  
  
“We love you too,” Yang said.

The girls settled on a pub a few blocks from Junior’s to eat and wait for the club to open. According to Yang, Junior didn’t open his doors until after sundown, which was just as well. By the time Asami had found a parking spot and they’d secured a booth away from a rowdy collection of college-aged kids who had dragged several of the high top tables together, evening had well and truly fallen over the city. The last rays of purple and orange light bled across the sky as Yang came back from the bar with a round of drinks. Asami eyed the bourbon Yang put in front of her warily.  
  
“You know I’m driving, right?” she said lightly.  
  
“Duh. Hence the liquor. Drink quick and early and you’ll be good by the time we’re ready to head home.” She’d gotten some kind of pale beer for her and Korra, and a cider of some kind for Blake, who took it appreciatively.  
  
Asami shrugged her shoulders. “Fine, one drink then.”

“I’ll take it!” Yang said triumphantly, then took a big pull from her own glass. Korra gave her a look.  
  
“You’d think you didn’t get trashed last night, the way you’re carrying on,” she said.  
  
Yang gave her a look full of fierce amusement. “What’s the matter Korra, think you won’t be able to keep up?”  
  
Korra raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think you’re going to be able to bait me like that?”  
  
Yang shrugged. “Nah, you’re right. Better to just throw in the towel now before you have a chance to embarrass yourself.”  
  
Korra scoffed, but Asami could see the defiance in her eyes. “Just because _you_ like to carry on like you’re in college again, doesn’t mean the rest of us haven’t matured beyond that.”  
  
“Weren’t you the one who started suggesting drinking games last night?” Blake asked, the smallest smirk on her lips as she drank her cider.  
  
“Wha- no, that was...it’s not the same!” she sputtered, flushing a little as Yang laughed.  
  
“It’s totally the same!” Yang said. “But it’s fine, if you’re too old to keep up with those of us who can still party hard, I understand.”  
  
Korra glared at her girlfriend. “You are one year younger than me Xiao Long, don’t even start.”  
  
“One and a _half_ ,” she corrected Korra, “and able to drink you under the table.” Asami rolled her eyes. Poor Korra. She hadn’t stood a chance.  
  
“Fine!” she said, defiantly. “You’re on!” She grabbed her pint glass and raised it to her lips, drinking the whole thing in one long pull. Yang realized what she was doing belatedly and joined in. The two slammed their glasses on the table at nearly the same time.  
  
Asami turned to Blake. “So, how has the library been lately?”  
  
“Very relaxing, actually,” Blake said, turning to Asami, amusement sparking in her deep, amber eyes. “Now that finals are calming down and I’m not swamped by stressed out students finishing term papers, we’re looking at a nice summer lull.”  
  
“You deserve it. I know it was stressful for a while,” Asami said, touching her lightly on the arm, thoroughly ignoring her other girlfriends as they stood and went to the bar for a second round. Blake’s eyes followed them as they went.  
  
“Who do you think’s going to win?” she asked. Asami didn’t bother to look over her shoulder.  
  
“Korra, easily. She was actually up this morning, unlike Yang. I thought she was going to miss lunch with her uncle.”  
  
Blake’s smile widened fractionally. “Really? You’re betting against Yang in a drinking contest?”

Asami sipped her bourbon. “Context is everything,” she said confidently. “Korra’s got this.”  
  
Blake licked her lips, drawing Asami’s eyes to them. “The usual bet?” she asked calmly.  
  
Asami chuckled. “You’re just trying to win back the money you lost to me over Catra.”  
  
Blake’s ear flicked and her smile wavered for just a fraction of a second before it returned. “If you’re so confident in Korra, it should be an easy call. Unless you think I’m right…”  
  
Asami hummed as she considered it. “Fine, you’re on,” she said after a moment. She leaned forward and kissed Blake lightly on the lips. As she drew back, she felt Blake’s hand, a little cool and dry to the touch, cup her cheek and draw her back for a second one. This kiss was longer, more intimate than the first. Asami felt her heartbeat quicken. Blake broke it after a minute, blushing a little as she looked at Asami.  
  
“Sorry,” she murmured, so softly that Asami nearly didn’t hear her over the noise in the pub. “It’s just been a little while since I’ve been able to kiss you.” She looked embarrassed. Asami smiled warmly at her.  
  
“Don’t be,” she said. “I missed it too.” She leaned a fraction closer, waiting for Blake’s consent. The faunus closed the distance and kissed her a third time. The smell of her delicate floral perfume consumed Asami as she let herself get lost in the kiss. This one lasted longer, and Asami put a hand on Blake’s thigh as she leaned into it. She thought she could hear the low rumble of a purr in Blake’s chest.  
  
The arrival of Yang and Korra brought them back to the booth in the pub. They parted, Blake a little suddenly, as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be. Her face was adorably red and she played with her short black hair the way she usually did when she was flustered. Asami just smiled at her, keeping her hand resting on Blake’s thigh as she sipped her bourbon. Blake didn’t remove it, which she considered a good sign.  
  
“No need to stop on our behalf,” Yang said with a wink as she slid into the booth after Korra. They each had a mostly full pint glass and a shot glass full of some kind of dark liquor. Yang was noticeably flushed in the face, and though it was harder to tell with Korra, Asami thought she could see little spots of color on her dark cheeks as well. 

"Hitting it a little hard, aren't you?" Asami asked with wry amusement. Korra shot a look at Yang. 

" _Somebody_ ordered car bombs with one of the other bartenders after I’d already ordered shots," she said. 

Blake arched an eyebrow. "I swear, if one of you passes out at Junior's, we'll let security take care of you." Yang laughed at that. 

"I'll be fine. Korra on the other hand…" She trailed off, eyeing Korra with a mocking sort of uncertainty. 

Korra glared at her. "Just shut up and drink," she growled. With that, she dropped the shot glass into the pint and began to drink the concoction in one pull, Yang following swiftly on her heels. 

Asami and Blake exchanged glances as the others finished their drinks, Korra slightly ahead of Yang. "I don't suppose either of you ordered food while you were at the bar?" Asami said. 

It was Yang and Korra’s turn to exchange glances, theirs flustered. The alcohol-induced flushes on both of their cheeks deepened slightly as they hurriedly asked Blake and Asami what they wanted.  
  
They lay off the drinks a little after that, nursing another beer each as the four of them ate the pub food, which was surprisingly good. Korra and Yang were both in high spirits, telling jokes and ribbing each other, seemingly for Blake and Asami’s amusement. Blake was smiling more often than not, which seemed to light a fire in Yang. Not that Blake was a sour person, far from it. She was just more reserved than the others. It was nice to see her enjoying herself as much as everyone else was.

Korra and Yang generously offered to settle up, since their drinks made up the lion’s share of the bill, and the four of them made their way through the city at Yang’s direction to Junior’s. Asami heard the club before she saw it - the pounding of the music was audible nearly a block away. It was packed, just like Yang had said it would be. The line to get in the club wound around the block, with men and women ranging from late teens to a few years older than Asami mingling, flirting, and generally wiling away the time. Yang ignored them all, taking point as they breezed past the line. They drew a few looks from the other would-be club goers as they passed them, most of them incredulous or amused at their audacity. 

She approached the bouncer. He was a solidly built man, above average in height, and wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show the muscles in his forearms. He wore a red tie and red glasses that seemed wildly impractical, but he didn't look over them as he assessed Yang. She gave him her last name, and he checked the clipboard he had clutched in one meaty hand. He nodded and opened the door, calling for someone Asami couldn't see. When he did, Asami could feel the bassy club music thumping in her chest. 

He nodded to someone, then opened the door wider for the four women. They entered a small, dark hallway and Asami could see strobe lights flickering at the end of it. A man of slightly smaller stature, but very similar dress, to the bouncer inclined his head to them and led them to the end of the hallway where they emerged into the club itself.

The club floor was huge, roughly the size of a modest airplane hanger. Pillars of what looked like glass, but couldn't have reasonably been so fragile, ran from the floor to the high ceiling, refracting the beams of light that swept through them in various hues of red. A raised dance floor occupied most of the center of the club, and the strobe lights Asami noticed earlier were focused over it. They flashed in time with the heavy beat of the club music that surrounded them completely. She could see hundreds of people, moving in rhythm together, the strobe effect making the dancers appear more like momentary still images rather than smooth, continuous movement.

She didn’t have much time to gawk, however. Their escort took the girls around the edge of the dance floor, and Asami could see little islands of carpeted floor spread out around it. Each had couches, made of deep red or black leather, positioned around tables to make little lounges where people who were tired of dancing or needed a drink were gathered. The lights cast them all into shadowy silhouettes, indistinct and shifting in the background. She would have had to be as close to them as she was to her girlfriends to be able to make out the details of their appearance, and even Blake, who walked along beside Asami, was cast in red light when she could see her clearly at all. Along one wall was a massive bar, with more men in outfits identical to the one their guide was wearing, though only one or two of them wore their red glasses.

They moved around the edge of the dance floor, past the tall DJ’s booth where Asami could see a man with a giant costume bear’s head operating the music. Only then did she see a corner of the club that had been roped off with a long, red velvet rope. The area was big enough to contain a few private booths, these ones with their own curtains that could be pulled for a modicum of privacy. Their guide stopped next to another man, this one taller and broader in the shoulder, but still wearing the uniform of Junior’s staff. Their guide said something to the big man who looked them over, once each, and nodded. He unclipped the rope and gestured for them to enter what was clearly a VIP lounge of some kind. In one corner of the lounge, there was a delicate looking spiral staircase, and Asami followed it with her eyes. It would take someone up into what looked like a balcony that ringed the club and overlooked the dance floor. She could just make out shadowy figures lounging above her, and she noticed that two of the curtains on the booths were already drawn, signaling that the tables were occupied.  
  
“Miss Xiao Long,” their escort asked before they had gone too far inside the marked-off VIP lounge, “can I get you and your friends something to drink?”  
  
“Strawberry Sunrise,” Yang said confidently. She glanced first at Korra, then Blake. “Better make that three.”  
  
Their escort nodded curtly, then made for the bar across the floor. Yang looked at her girlfriends, all of whom were looking around with expressions that ran the gambit of amused to awed.  
  
“What do you guys think?” Yang asked, her voice raised over the thudding of the club music. The speakers were clearly meant to focus the sound on the dance floor, but it was still loud enough to make conversation something of a challenge.

“It’s...a lot,” Blake said honestly. Korra and Yang laughed at that.  
  
“Swanky,” Korra said. “This is our booth?” She gestured to one of the ones without a pulled curtain. A little name card on the end read ‘Xiao Long.’ 

“Why haven’t we ever come here before?” Asami asked as they slid in. She and Blake set their purses on the table, Yang assuring her that the security guy would keep an eye on them.  
  
“Didn’t want to impose,” Yang said simply. “Thought I’d save it for a special occasion.”  
  
“Anywhere we get treated like VIPs is totally fine with me,” Korra said. She was in a good mood, Asami could tell. The combination of alcohol and the high-energy environment of the club were clearly overcoming her earlier concerns about the class she had to teach tomorrow.  
  
They didn’t have to wait long for their drinks. A beautiful girl, slightly below average in height with massive platform boots that laced up her knees and a white frilly dress brought them over, balancing the tray effortlessly on one hand. Her expression was bored, haughty even, as she set the drinks in front of them. She’d even brought a glass of water, which she put in front of Asami.  
  
“Thanks Mel,” Yang said to the girl with a wink. The pale faced girl gave Yang a completely expressionless look, then tossed her dark hair over one shoulder and addressed the others.  
  
“I’ll be around if you need something, or you can order up at the bar,” she said, her tone just as bored as her expression. The others thanked her politely, but she only inclined her head before turning on one massive heel and leaving the VIP area.  
  
“She seems nice,” Korra said, sarcastically.  
  
Yang shrugged. “Melanie’s fine. She’s just not my biggest fan.” Asami arched an eyebrow at that, but Yang declined to tell the story, sipping her drink instead. Korra and Blake followed suit, both of them raising their eyebrows in surprise. Blake offered hers to Asami, who tasted it. It was sweet, but not sickeningly so. She could taste the bite of the alcohol just beneath the surface, though it ended on something citrusy that complimented the strawberry flavor well.  
  
“Oh, that’s dangerous,” Korra said, eyeing the drink.  
  
“You can always bow out now if you like,” Yang taunted, taking another healthy sip from the wide-brimmed glass. Korra snorted derisively.  
  
“In your dreams,” she said.  
  
Yang flashed a smile at her. The light of the club made her lilac eyes look dark. She twisted her fingers into Korra’s top and dragged her close, kissing her hard on the mouth. Korra was still holding her drink in one hand, but the other snaked around Yang’s waist and held her tightly. Asami could see the muscles tense in her arm.  
  
Asami sat back, crossing one leg over the other beneath the table as she watched the pair with an amused expression. Blake was suddenly focused more on her drink, though her eyes darted up occasionally to watch her girlfriends. The same light that drew the red out in Yang’s eyes hid the blush Asami knew must be coloring Blake’s cheeks and her neck.  
  
By the time they both parted, Yang and Korra were breathing heavily. There was a satisfied look on Yang’s face. Korra just looked hungry.  
  
“You two really _are_ lacking in self-control, aren’t you?” Asami said, calmly. The two women looked at her. “It’s literally only been a day.”

Yang’s smile became more wolfish. “Oh please, that was just a quickie. It’s not like we could do much.”  
  
Asami arched her eyebrow. “Because I was asleep in the room, I remember. Have I mentioned how _appallingly_ rude that was?”  
  
Yang’s amusement flickered for a second, to something a little repentant, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone. “So?” she said, her voice a challenge. “You already had Blake punish me for that.”  
  
Asami flicked her eyes towards Blake, who met her gaze. She could see a little heat there beginning to stir. Good. “And did you?” she asked Blake.  
  
“Yes Miss Sato,” she said. Asami felt her heartbeat quicken. Truthfully, what title her girlfriends used for her when they were playing wasn’t important. Use of a title was a good way for her to gauge how willing they were to play. She knew some couples, and groups, preferred to occupy their ‘roles’ more or less at all times, but Asami had never been that way, and clearly the others hadn’t either. The idea struck Asami as exhausting, and besides, she felt she would quickly grow tired of nothing but subservience in her household.

But it had been so long for all of them. They all needed a little release. She swept her gaze across the table, feeling the familiar calm sense of control settle over her as she did. Korra’s eyes were bright, a little smirk on her lips as she met Asami’s gaze. She held it for a moment, then said, “You never punished me, Ma’am.”  
  
Asami felt her lips turn up slightly. “That’s because I assumed it was all Yang’s fault,” Asami said. She saw Yang’s mouth drop open in the corner of her eye and Korra’s smirk broadened.  
  
“It was Ma’am,” she said quickly. “It was all her idea.”  
  
Yang gave Korra a look of deep betrayal and Asami fixed her gaze on Yang. She licked her lips.  
  
“It sounds to me like someone still needs to learn some restraint.”  
  
To Asami’s slight surprise, but intense amusement, it was Blake who said, “It would seem so, Miss Sato.”  
  
“Wha- hang on!” Yang started to say, but Asami held up her hand and Yang fell silent immediately.  
  
“Until I say otherwise, you are not to touch or kiss any of us,” Asami said. “Though, I won’t deprive us of the same privileges. Does that sound fair to you?”  
  
“It absolutely does not!” Yang said, hotly. However, she averted her gaze at the look Asami gave her. “Sorry. I mean, it does not, Mistress.”  
  
Asami felt heat rising in her chest. “Then maybe you’ll learn something before the night is out.” She took a sip of water, feeling the attention of Blake and Korra on her like it was a physical presence. “I think I want to dance,” she said after a moment. “Blake, would you indulge me?”  
  
Blake’s expression was only a little shy, as she nodded and finished her drink. She was mostly steady on her feet as she stood and Asami slid out of the booth after her. “Korra, you can have fun with Yang if you want.”  
  
“Yes Ma’am,” Korra said with a wicked look in her eyes as she drew her girlfriend out from the booth, trailing after them towards the dance floor. Asami couldn’t help but notice the pair of them were much less steady than Blake had been. 

The music changed as they made their way to the nearest steps leading up and onto the crowded dance floor. The beat sped up slightly and what sounded like a synth keyboard began to play an almost haunting melody over the steady thudding of the bass. The strobe lights were disorienting and mesmerizing all at once as Asami and Blake ascended onto the floor, moving with liquid grace through the momentary gaps in the bodies. The thudding in her chest felt like a second heartbeat to Asami, and she closed her eyes for a moment as the music simply engulfed her.  
  
Then she drew Blake towards her and began to move with the beat and the rhythm of the music. She rolled her hips, not bothering to open her eyes as her hands climbed up Blake’s body, holding her, touching her, heedless of the sensation of bodies all around them. When she opened her eyes, all she saw was Blake, her amber eyes flashing as she wound her arms around Asami’s neck, her body rolling with Asami’s, moving in a smooth synchronism that was slower and more intimate than any of the dancers around them, while still being perfectly in time with the music.

The flashing lights had a hypnotic quality, showing Asami her girlfriend’s face only in stark flashes of relief. They danced by touch, and feel, and - once Blake’s lips found hers - taste. She could feel her heart racing, her body begging for more, begging to go faster. But Asami held those desires at bay, knowing that Blake was more comfortable with the slow, passionate intimacy. The kiss ended far too soon for Asami’s taste, but probably for longer than would be decent if they weren’t being so thoroughly ignored by the other dancers. Blake spun in her arms and her back pressed against Asami’s front. Asami slid her hands over the smooth fabric of her dress, savoring the feel of her and the sensuous, intoxicating way Blake moved. The light, floral scent of her perfume was detectable even in the mass of sweat and humanity around them, and she lowered her head to inhale that scent deeply, placing ruby red lips on the back of Blake’s neck in a way that made her body tense, then relax as she felt more than heard her girlfriend sigh in pleasure. 

Gods, but it had been too long.

Asami didn’t know how long they danced together. Time meant little where they were, and the music changed with a fluidity and grace that made the songs less distinct entities than a singular force, like some great beast made of subtly shifting bass beats and electronic melodies. All there was in the world was Blake, and her hands and her lips and _her_ . Asami was hot, in more ways than one, the sweat sticking her hair to the back of her neck. She dimly realized at some point that they’d sped up. Blake’s kisses were becoming more insistent, hotter, more urgent. Asami was more than willing to answer her enthusiasm in kind.  
  
However, as skilled as Asami was walking and dancing in heels, she was still human. Her calves began to ache at some point, and as much as she was reluctant to stimi her girlfriend’s enthusiasm, it was worth remembering that they were still in public. She gave Blake one more very long, very indulgent kiss before taking her hand and guiding her back through the crowd of humanity around them.  
  
They ran into Yang and Korra before they reached the edge of the dance floor. They were both sweating as well, Korra grinding against Yang who looked equal parts frustrated and ecstatic as she danced without once letting her hands actually touch Korra.  
  
Asami took the opportunity to approach Korra from the front. She was upon her nearly before Korra noticed her, only making eye contact with Asami at the last moment. Asami gave her a searing kiss, her arms wrapping around her, hands brushing against Yang’s waist. She couldn’t actually hear Yang’s groan of need, but she imagined she could. Korra kissed Asami back eagerly, even as her hips pressed against Yang.  
  
Asami broke the kiss and moved her lips next to Korra’s ear so that she only had to speak a little loudly, rather than shout over the music. “Switch with me?”  
  
Korra’s eyes flashed and she grinned broadly. “Gladly, Ma’am,” she said, sliding past Asami. She offered Blake her hand, and the faunus looked at it, then at Asami. Asami nodded slightly and Blake took a deep breath before taking Korra’s offered hand.  
  
Asami watched them as the crowd moved, separating them. She caught a glimpse of Korra, slowly winding her hands around Blake’s waist, slowing her earlier pace from the intentionally frenetic heat of her dancing with Yang to something slower and more sensuous. Content, and still in need of a break, she turned to Yang, who was watching her warily. Asami gave her a small smile and crooked her finger, indicating she should follow her. Then she resumed her trip to the end of the dance floor, knowing that Yang would follow.  
  
Her thoughts drifted back to Blake and Korra as she moved through the dancers. She had no illusions that the two of them were madly in love. As newcomers to this lifestyle, it was perhaps only natural that their relationship would be more friendly than romantic. That didn't keep them from spending time together, or bonding. It didn't mean that Korra wasn't equally as protective of her as she was of the others. And it didn't mean that, over time, they wouldn't grow closer, the way that Asami and Blake had done in recent months. 

Korra made Blake smile. She made her laugh. And she alone of all of them, shared in Blake's enjoyment of quiet, mindful activities, such as meditating. Which, in itself, was an odd thought. Asami still remembered the wild tempered teen Korra had been when she'd moved to Republic City. She'd experienced so much and matured deeply since then. And though Yang was certainly capable of dragging the old Korra out, as tonight proved, Blake had nearly the opposite effect on her. She grounded and centered Korra. And in return, Asami suspected that Korra was a calming presence for Blake. Someone she could be comfortable with, who expected very little from her in return. And there could be no question of the physical attraction between the two of them, as Asami had observed on the occasions they were all together intimately. 

But as Asami now knew, Blake was simply a more complicated person than that. She felt sure that, over time, she would be as comfortable with Korra as she was becoming with Asami. At least, she told herself she was sure. 

She shook out her hair, clearing her head of her own attempt at playing matchmaker. What would happen would happen. No use fretting about it. She found the edge of the dance floor and went carefully down the stairs. After a moment, Yang followed, breathing heavily, sweat sticking her long, blonde hair to her neck and shoulders. Once Yang was level with her, Asami reached out and traced her fingers on the exposed skin of her waist, feeling the heat of her, the definition of her muscles beneath smooth skin. She was very like Korra that way, and Asami had a weakness for fit girls that she would never apologize for.  
  
Yang looked at her with unmistakable fire and longing in her eyes that sent a molton sensation through Asami’s core. She took a step closer to Yang, making her look up into her green eyes. She placed her fingers deliberately on Yang’s shoulder and dragged her nails down her collar, then over the exposed curve of her breast. Yang shivered, her eyes closing as she took a breath. Asami could see her hands flexing with the desire to reach out, to touch her. Asami’s smile was practically wicked as she placed her lips close to Yang’s ear, just as she’d done to Korra.  
  
“I’m glad to see the lesson is sinking in,” she said. “I hope you’ll remember it the next time you think about leaving me out in my own room.” She saw Yang swallow.  
  
“Y-yes Mistress, it will,” Yang said, her voice shaking slightly. She looked up at Asami in quiet desperation, her eyes focused on her ruby red lips. Asami licked them deliberately, sending a shiver through her girlfriend. 

Yang brought something out of Asami, something that was unfamiliar when they’d first started dating. She and Korra had, truthfully, had a very equivalent relationship. If Korra happened to enjoy giving and taking the lead, then Asami had only been too happy to let her. Korra was a giver, a caretaker, and Asami had loved giving herself to someone else so completely. It felt natural.  
  
Then Yang had come along. Yang, who had a surprisingly soft and warm maternal side to go along with her contradictingly hot-headed and impulsive nature. She and Korra were so alike in so many ways that Asami had assumed, naturally, that Yang would also prefer a more dominant position in the bedroom. To say that had been an incorrect assumption was a hilarious understatement. Yang could be a brat, and she loved testing limits, but she crumpled under a strong hand. And ever since they’d started sleeping together, Asami had found herself not only willing, but _eager_ to be that strong hand. She wanted to _make_ Yang behave, make her service her, make her grovel at her feet. Korra had found that all kinds of hot, and that had been the foundation of their group dynamic ever since. It felt so _natural_ to her now, so integral to how Asami saw herself that it was difficult to imagine how she'd gone over twenty years never indulging that side of her sexuality.

Having Yang standing before her now, clearly ready to do anything at all Asami might ask her for a single, chaste kiss, lit a fire in Asami that she knew she had to temper, lest she get swept away in the heady rush of her own authority. She didn’t need to get kicked out of _another_ club for having sex too loudly in the bathroom. Two was plenty.

She leaned forward until her lips were a scant inch from Yang’s, her head bowed back to compensate for how close they were standing. But before she graced her with a kiss, she stopped. “Let’s get you another drink, shall we?” she said instead, and then turned and made her way towards the bar. She could hear Yang’s groan of frustration over the sound of the music as she followed.  
  
Asami reached the bar first and took a seat at a free stool between two other patrons, leaving Yang to stand beside her. Asami snaked an arm around Yang's waist as she glanced at the bottles glittering on the shelves appraisingly. “Here’s the deal,” she said, knowing Yang was hanging on her every word, “I buy you a drink, you don’t tell either of the others about it, and I’ll give you a kiss. One kiss for one drink.”  
  
Yang gave her a confused look. The alcohol she’d already had was clearly making her head fuzzy, because she had to consider Asami’s offer a moment before her eyebrows lifted. “You’re trying to get me to lose the drinking contest,” she accused.  
  
Asami beamed at her. “If I was, would you help me?” she said. She put her fingers under Yang’s chin and drew her close. “Would it be worth a kiss?” Yang’s eyes were glued to her lips. Asami knew she had her even before she nodded sharply.  
  
Asami made a pleased little noise Yang likely couldn’t hear and ordered a double of high-shelf whiskey. She sipped it herself, found it acceptable, and passed the tumbler to Yang. Yang looked at the glass, placed her lips on the red mark that Asami’s lipstick had left, and drank it in two gulps. She’d barely put the glass down before Asami pulled her into a searing hot kiss. 

The kiss carried all the pent-up desire she’d had for her girlfriend over the last four weeks. Not being able to be intimate with Yang had been a different kind of torment than the distance she’d had to endure between her and Blake. She’d loved Yang nearly since the moment they’d met, and they had a blazing kind of chemistry that fed on one another until they were both sweating, panting, naked messes tangled in whoever’s bed they’d happened to fall into at the time. Asami buried her fingers in Yang’s mane of blonde hair, and Yang in turn wrapped her ludicrously strong arms around Asami’s waist and held her so tightly that for a moment, Asami wasn’t sure where she ended and Yang began. 

There was no subtlety in the kiss, and nothing even resembling restraint. It was elemental, passionate, and very nearly indecent with need. Asami could feel Yang moaning, even if the sound was lost in the noise around them. What wasn’t lost was the catcalls and wolf-whistles from the bar patrons around them, nearly all male. Asami ignored them as long as she could before reluctantly parting from Yang. She let her hands slide down to Yang’s shoulders, pushing her back a little forcibly when it seemed like Yang wasn’t going to let her end the kiss, and though she in no way could be considered stronger than her girlfriend, Yang relented at once. Her pupils were huge and dark, and she was breathing more heavily than she had been when she left the dance floor. Naked lust was in her inebriated expression.  
  
Asami licked her lips. Gods she wanted her. But instead of saying that, she said, “Order another round for the table. I’m going to freshen up.” And maybe splash some cold water on her face.  
  
Yang looked disappointed, but she nodded. Asami stood and swept towards the restrooms, stopping by their booth to grab her purse with her makeup inside. There was a small line outside of the bathroom, and she stood in it patiently, absentmindedly swaying with the music and trying not to think too hard about how good Yang’s lips had felt.  
  
She didn’t notice that Blake had turned up in line until she nudged her pointedly. Asami gave her a warm smile and slid her arm through Blake’s waiting patiently until they could enter the bathroom. The fluorescent lights and the heavy door behind them was a blessed, if temporary, relief from the overwhelming stimulus of the club, and Asami could hear a faint ringing in her ears as she went to the sink.  
  
Blake followed her, clearly of a similar mind. Asami could see in the mirror that she was flushed, and her lipstick a little smeared, just as hers was. “Sorry about that,” Asami said without any trace of regret as she pulled a wipe from her bag and offered it to Blake.  
  
Blake flushed deeper as she fixed her lipstick. “It...wasn’t all you,” she said with a small, embarrassed smile. The corners of Asami's mouth turned up, but she didn’t comment. Matchmaker indeed. 

“I’m glad we did this,” Blake said as Asami was re-applying lipstick. “I didn’t think I’d miss group dates like this as much as I did.”

Asami rubbed her lips together, then stashed the little tube. “Sometimes we only realize how much something matters to us when it’s gone,” she said, meeting Blake’s eyes in the mirror.  
  
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I suppose.” Asami turned and drew her into a slow, sensual kiss, sucking lightly on Blake’s lower lip. Blake smiled against her and pulled away playfully.  
  
“I _just_ fixed my makeup Miss Sato,” she said, her eyes sparkling.  
  
Asami just hummed in satisfaction and reminded herself about her earlier pledge about not having sex in bathrooms, letting Blake lead the way back onto the club floor. 

They went arm-and-arm in the direction of the VIP area. A pair of men were approaching them, likely going up to the bar. Asami caught the taller of the two men’s eyes, and looked away quickly, but the damage had been done. He nudged his companion and gestured in a way he clearly thought was subtle towards them, adjusting their course so that they intercepted Asami and Blake near one of the little lounge areas.

“Good evening ladies,” the taller man said. He was maybe a few inches over six feet, and looked incredibly confident. He was wearing a pink button-up shirt, undone to about his sternum, and a black sport coat over it with the sleeves pushed up. He was in good shape, Asami couldn’t help but notice. He had the kind of muscles that you only got with a lot of effort and very specific exercise routines meant to sculpt a particular look. He had longer hair, pulled up into a bun that reminded Asami a little of the fashion trends in Mistral. 

“You two look absolutely gorgeous,” the man said, his eyes lazily, and pointedly, trailing up and down Asami, lingering strategically as they went. “My friend and I here would love to buy you a drink.” He gestured to his companion. He was shorter and slighter, and he wore a brown vest trimmed with gold over his white button-up shirt. His hair was up in a bun as well, but he left the front long and loose, falling over one eye in a way that looked casual, but had probably taken half an hour of styling to get right. 

Asami gave them a small, polite smile. “No, thank you,” she said, not unkindly. Then, her arm still linked with Blake’s, she tried to steer them around the men and continue towards their booth, hoping that they would take the hint and leave them alone. They had no such luck.

The shorter of the two men moved to stand in Blake’s way. “Come on, beautiful women shouldn’t have to pay for their drinks. Just one round? Anything you like, on us.” He gave Blake what he clearly thought was a winning smile. “I’m Roun-Jian by the way. My friend over there is Chan.” He held out his hand as if to shake Blake’s. She just gave him a flat stare.

“Like my _girlfriend_ said,” Blake said, putting heavy emphasis on the word, “we’re fine, thanks.”

Chan had moved to stand a little behind Asami, making her turn slightly to keep her eyes on him. He raised his eyebrows, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge Blake’s statement. “No need to get so defensive,” he said, with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re just trying to do something nice for you, that’s all.”

“Besides,” Ruon-Jian said, “we know Junior personally. Things go well, we can get you in here any night you like, no wait or anything.” He left out the implication of what might happen if things _didn’t_ go well, Asami couldn’t help but notice. She glanced his way and saw his eyes tracking over Blake, eventually finding their way to her cat’s ears on top of her head. “Nice,” he said with a nod of his head. “I’ve always had a thing for faunus chicks, you know.”

Asami felt Blake tense up beside her. Her hand was creeping towards where her purse sat against her hip, wondering how quickly she could have her taser out if she needed it. She gave Chan a cold look, all hints of politeness gone. “Leave us alone,” she said, forcing herself to stay calm.  
  
Chan seemed to sense the change in her demeanour and put his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. “Hey, we’re just trying to show you two a good time, no need to get all psycho about it.”

Asami was about to say something about how good of a time she could really show him when she heard a voice calling her name.

“Asami, Blake, there you guys are!” Asami turned to see Yang and Korra coming towards them from the VIP area. Either they’d seen something, or had just come looking for them. Korra walked a half a pace behind Yang, and despite the drinks she’d had, her eyes were sharp and calculating, flashing back and forth between the two men standing with them. Yang had her usual huge grin on her face, but Asami knew her well enough to see the fire that was burning behind her eyes.  
  
Asami felt herself relax at the sight of her girlfriends. She took Blake’s hand and dragged her away from Chan and Ruon-Jian and towards the others. Yang wrapped Blake up in a massive hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her, setting her down so that she was between Blake and the men. Korra just took Asami’s hand, staring at Chan with a challenging expression.  
  
“You okay?” Yang said so that only the two of them could hear. Blake nodded.  
  
“They bothering you?” Korra added.  
  
“Just being creeps,” Asami said. She saw the fire in Yang’s eyes intensify.  
  
“Leave ‘em to me,” she said, turning to face the pair.

The arrival of the other two women didn’t seem to deter them. Chan’s confident grin hadn’t faded, and there was an unpleasant kind of hunger in his eyes. Ruon-Jian was harder to read, his expression almost lazy as he looked at them.  
  
Chan took a step forward. “Hey there! We were just introducing ourselves to your friends,” he said, his tone pleasant and conversational. “Asami and Blake, right?” he asked, indicating to each of the girls in turn, making sure he caught their names correctly. “I’m Chan, this is Ruon-Jian. We’re friends of Junior’s, just thought we’d offer to buy the next round. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Yang gasped in surprise, putting a hand over her mouth. “Oh em gee,” she said, pitching her voice higher than usual, “you guys know Junior too!” The two men exchanged looks, Chan furrowing his brow in confusion.  
  
“Um, yeah,” he said. “You know him?”  
  
Yang let out a girlish giggle. “Know him? We’re, like, _totally_ be eff effs,” Yang said Asami had to cover her mouth to keep from smiling too broadly at Yang’s ridiculous performance. She bounced a few steps closer to Chan.  
  
“Really?” he asked, looking back at Ruon-Jian, who shrugged. “Uh, how did you guys meet?”  
  
“You really wanna know?” Yang asked. She leaned forward a little and crooked a finger at him. Chan raised his eyebrows but came closer.  
  
“Well, I was at his club one night,” Yang said, “and he was there. You know how he likes to hang out. And he thought I was real pretty. So he offered to buy me a drink.” Yang took another step towards Chan. “He was being _very_ forward, so I leaned over and whispered in his ear, just...like..this…” Yang stretched a little so that she was next to Chan’s ear. His eyes were wide and he seemed to be hanging onto her every word.  
  
“Then...I did this.” Yang reached down and - literally - grabbed Chan by the balls. His eyes widened and he made a very undignified noise. Ruon-Jian moved forward, but Korra had stepped up beside Yang and gave him a look that made him think twice about intervening.  
  
“My girlfriends said you were bothering them,” Yang said, her voice returning to its normal cadence, but edged with anger. “Is that true?”  
  
“Didn’t...mean anything...honest…” the man wheezed. Yang scoffed.  
  
“Sure you didn’t, big guy.” She must have squeezed harder, because he made another, very undignified noise. “Here’s the deal, _Chan_ ,” Yang said, spitting his name like it was a curse. “The truth is, I actually _do_ know Junior. We go back. And I’m going to tell him all about you two weasels. Who knows, maybe you guys are better friends with him than I am.” She gave Chan that wolfish smile she was so good at. “But, given what kind of spineless creeps you are, I kind of doubt it. So if I were you, I’d call it a night. In fact, I might just give this place a wide berth for a while, because if I run into you two assholes again, I won’t be so gentle. Understood?”

Chan nodded and Roun-Jian said, “Yeah, totally, we got, okay? Just let him go!”  
  
Yang did so, and the big man fell to his knees, eyes watering. Yang backed away from them as Roun-Jian moved to help him to his feet. Yang slid an arm around Blake and Korra took Asami’s hand. Only then did the four girls turn their backs on the men and head with slightly hurried footsteps to the VIP area.  
  
They were met by the man who had been standing by the velvet rope, who seemed to have clued in that something wasn’t right. “Is everything okay Miss Xiao Long?” he asked, his thuggish brow furrowed.  
  
“Not particularly,” Yang said with a little heat behind the words. “Those two were harassing my friends.”  
  
“I’ll make sure that they’re escorted from the premise,” the man said, looking after Chan and Roun-Jian, who to their credit, looked as though they were heading for the exit, Chan limping slightly.  
  
“I’d appreciate that,” Yang said. “Can you tell Junior I’d like to talk to him if he’s got a sec?”  
  
“Of course,” the man grunted. He stepped away a little and waved down one of the men who was walking around the outside of the club floor. Yang turned away from them and unhooked the velvet rope, letting them all slide back into their booth.

“You guys okay?” Korra asked, looking between Asami and Blake.  
  
“I’m fine,” Asami said. Blake just shrugged. The playful tension from before had evaporated slightly as Korra and Yang sipped their drinks unenthusiastically. Asami eventually caught Yang’s eye.

“So...how did you meet Junior anyway,” she asked, trying to break the tension.

Yang gave her a curious look. “Hm? What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, what’s the real story? Why does he like you so much?”

Comprehension blossomed on Yang’s face. “Oh, that actually is how we met.” Asami blinked back at her.

“And you’re...friends?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Yang said, with a wink. “Don’t worry, he’s _much_ more respectful of women now. Like I said, he’s a big softy. Just had a tough-guy macho thing he had to get over.”  
  
There was a pause, then Blake started giggling. It was a soft little sound, not particularly audible over the ambient noise, but it was something. Her laughter set the others off one at a time, and soon the table had dissolved into a fit of giggles.  
  
They stayed for about another hour at the club. Junior appeared at some point to talk to Yang. He was a massive man, six and a half feet tall at least, and Asami had a hard time imagining her girlfriend threatening anybody that size. But, then again, Yang was hardly somebody who let little things like ‘size’ or ‘relative strength’ concern her when it came to picking her battles. There was a reason for the scar on her right arm, after all.  
  
Blake didn’t leave the booth again, opting to stay with whoever wasn’t dancing at the time. The others took turns keeping her company, despite her insistence that she didn’t need it. Yang stayed with her the most, and despite the smile she wore talking to her and sitting with her, Asami couldn’t help but notice that there was still a kindling of anger deep in her eyes.  
  
When they'd had their fill, Asami called a cab to drive them the few blocks to the lot she’d parked in, and drove them home, Korra riding along shotgun this time. The downstairs was dark when Asami pulled into the driveway of their house. The only light that she could see was a dim one in the third-floor window - Catra and Adora’s bedroom. It was a safe bet that the sitting and dining rooms were clear. She was glad that they’d been able to have their space. She’d have to ask Catra how it had gone. Maybe that would be a good conversation starter, if she could tease out more than one or two words from her housemate. She shook her head.  
  
Yang and Korra had faded quickly on the car ride home. The drinks they’d had finally seemed to catch up to them, and no matter what either of them said, they weren’t college students anymore. Gone were the days when a ‘late night’ meant seeing the sun before you fell asleep. Nowadays, they were hardly ever out of the house past ten. Korra in particular was wiped - she’d had a full, active day on top of everything else.  
  
“This doesn’t mean I lost,” Korra said to Yang, a slight slur in her voice as Asami helped her inside. The corner of Yang’s mouth turned up.  
  
“Uh huh, sure it doesn’t.” Yang looked exhausted, but to her credit, she at least was standing under her own power.  
  
Asami held up a hand to forestall further bickering. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, you’re going to bed,” she said to Korra, who looked at her with a petulant grin.  
  
“Is that an order, Ma’am?” she asked. Asami flushed.  
  
“Maybe it is. You have class in the morning, remember?” Korra rolled her eyes.  
  
“Oh, _fine_ ,” she said, drawing out the word. Then she looked ahead of her, a contemplative look on her face. “Hmm,” she said seriously. “Stairs.”  
  
“I’m going to stay up a bit,” Yang said. “I should probably drink something non-alcoholic before I turn in.” Asami looked at her. Now that they were home, there was a stiffness to Yang’s shoulders she didn’t like the look of.  
  
“You should really sleep,” Blake said, softly. There was a...pleading quality to Blake’s voice. She saw a muscle in Yang’s jaw work silently, but she said nothing.  
  
“Here,” Asami said, letting an instinct guide her as much as anything else, “Blake, why don’t you help Korra upstairs, okay? You can take our bed for the night. I’ll stay up with Yang.”  
  
Blake looked at Asami. There was a flash of gratitude in her expression as she took Korra’s arm over her shoulder and helped her slowly up the stairs towards the master bedroom. She had hardly begun taking the stairs when Yang left, her steps only slightly unsteady, making her way towards the kitchen. Blake hesitated, watching her go.  
  
“I’ll talk to her,” Asami assured her, and Blake gave her a nod before continuing to help Korra upstairs.  
  
Asami sighed and followed Yang, pausing only momentarily to remove her heels.  
  
Yang had done the same, though she’d ditched her’s in the kitchen. She’d stripped out of her half-jacket as well, leaving her in her sleeveless top. She stood, barefoot, by the sink, drinking a glass of water she’d poured straight from the tap.

“What’s going on?” she asked, gently. Yang didn’t say anything.  
  
“Yang,” Asami said, putting a hand on her waist, “talk to me. What’s up?”  
  
Yang took a deep breath. “Those guys. Can’t stop thinking about them.” She flexed her right arm, and Asami’s attention was drawn to the long, ugly scar that ran nearly the entire length of her forearm. “I just...I wanted to hurt those guys. Bad.”  
  
“You kind of did,” Asami reminded her.  
  
“Not bad enough,” Yang said, and there was a venom in her tone as she said it.  
  
“Yang,” Asami said and put her hands on her shoulders, rubbing them, kneading them, sliding her warm hands down her girlfriend’s arms. “You did plenty. Blake and I are safe. It’s okay.”  
  
“I know that!” Yang said, tensing up. Asami continued to massage her, undeterred, until she felt her relax once more. “I do. I just...it’s just swirling around in my head. All the anger. I can’t make it stop.” She looked over her shoulder, and Asami could see guilt on her face.  
  
“Blake didn’t want to be alone, did she?” Yang asked. Asami sighed.  
  
“I don’t think so. But it’s okay. She and Korra will take our bed tonight.”  
  
“What about Catra and Adora?”  
  
Asami shrugged. “Adora might know already. You heard what she said when we left.”  
  
Yang snorted. “She’s pretty smart. And she knows I’m poly.”  
  
“Yeah,” Asami said. She slid her arms around Yang’s waist, letting her lean against her for balance. She began to take a few deep breaths, and felt Yang fall into the same rhythm with her, breathing with the rise and fall of Asami's chest against her back. After a few minutes, she could see the last of the tension leaving her face, and Yang let out a deep sigh.

“Feel better?” Asami asked, gently.  
  
“A little,” she said. Asami smiled and kissed the back of her neck.  
  
She felt Yang tense in her arms again, but differently this time. It wasn't as sharp as before, anticipatory more than angry. Asami heard her inhale sharply, then let out a low hum of contentment. “That feels nice,” she said softly. There was an unsaid invitation in her voice.  
  
She shouldn’t have considered going further. They were already risking things swapping beds for the night. But the feeling of her girlfriend, pliant and eager in her arms lit the fire that had been so recently stoked inside of her. She found her hands sliding, almost unconsciously, to cup Yang’s breasts through her top.  
  
Yang groaned as she did, and that was all the encouragement Asami needed to sink her fingers into her soft skin. Her lips found Yang’s neck again and she kissed her, sucking hard, her heartbeat accelerating quickly.  
  
They stayed like that for a moment, tension building between them. It didn't take long. It was as if Asami's body had merely hit pause on all of the feelings she'd had earlier, when she'd been teasing Yang by the bar. The heat inside of her boiled over almost instantly, and Asami whirled Yang around, kissing her fiercely. It was just as intense as their kiss in the club had been, but quicker somehow. More frantic than just needy. They both knew that this was a bad idea, and yet, at that moment, neither of them seemed to care.  
  
“I want you,” Asami said, and her voice was practically a snarl. She pulled Yang’s top off over her head. Her bra was gone in a flash. Then she was pushing Yang back against the counter top, her back arching as Asami’s lips found one stiff nipple and sucked it hard.  
  
Yang hissed as Asami’s teeth sank into sensitive skin, but all she said was, “Yes, _yes,_ more, please, _please_ !”  
  
“Please, what?” Asami asked pointedly. She felt light-headed, desperate. Her whole body felt like it was screaming for release.  
  
“Please Mistress!” Yang said and Asami was kissing her again. She was fumbling at the hem of her dress, dragging it up her body until her black lace thong was exposed. She slid it over the curve of her hips and let it fall to the floor unceremoniously. Then she reversed their positions, so that her back was to the counter top.  
  
“Get on your knees, slut,” Asami growled and Yang obeyed without hesitation. The sight of her, topless, hair a wild mess already, looking up at Asami with dark, hungry eyes made her groan. This was what she wanted. This was what she _needed_ .  
  
Without a word, she grabbed Yang by the hair and dragged her towards her dripping sex. She had to drape one long leg over Yang's shoulder, but if her girlfriend even noticed the burden, she didn't say anything. Her lips found Asami’s lower ones and went to work with practiced, expert movements. If her intoxication or arousal made her a little sloppier than she normally would have been, Asami didn’t care. All that mattered was that Yang’s mouth was on her, and her tongue was _inside_ her. She moaned deeply, clutching the countertop behind her for support as she felt her climax approaching with concerning speed. She was _aching_ for release.  
  
“ _Yes_ , spirits, just like that, don’t stop, don’t you _dare_ stop, slut...”  
  
Her eyes had closed at some point. Her body was going rigid. She felt Yang’s mouth move as she said, “Yes Mistress,” her voice muffled by the fact that Asami’s hand in her hair held her fast, unable to part her lips from her Mistress's sex. Not that she seemed inclined to. Yang ate her out with single-minded passion that, and judging by her own moans, she was taking incredible pleasure in doing so.  
  
That thought only sent Asami careening closer and closer to the edge. Her orgasm was moments away, just a few breaths. She’d never wanted anything more.  
  
Then she heard a sound. It was a small sound. With the ringing in her ears from the club, and their combined enthusiasm, she might not have heard it if some small part of her that was at least pretending to be responsible hadn’t been straining her ears, listening for anything out of the ordinary.  
  
Her eyes flew open, and she stared across the room to the doorway that led into the hall. A figure stood there, half-hidden in shadow, but unmistakable nonetheless. Her blue and gold eyes reflected the light from the kitchen, and as those beautiful eyes, full of betrayal and pain, met Asami’s, terror lanced through her chest.  
  
Of course, that was when Yang’s tongue sent her tumbling over the edge.  
  
“Yang!” she said, trying to warn her partner, even as pleasure turned her whole world white. It had sounded more like a passionate cry than a warning, and she heard Yang’s own climax follow quickly on her heels. The strength went out of Asami’s legs and she slumped back against the countertop, her head whirling.  
  
“Catra!” She tried to say. She pushed Yang away from her. “Yang, Catra, she-”  
  
She was gone.  
  
Asami blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision. Yang didn’t seem to have understood what she’d said.  
  
Then, with horrible, gut-wrenching guilt, Asami heard a sob coming from the hallway.  
  
Followed by the distinct sound of the front door slamming shut.


	8. Fallout, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra copes with the discovery she's made the only way she knows how. In doing so, she finds herself reflecting on the traumas of her past and the road that has brought her to Republic City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Suicidal thoughts, explicit self-harm, alcoholism, drug addiction, implied sexual assault
> 
> This was a hard one to write people. Catra's past isn't pretty, but it is a part of her, and pretty crucial to understanding who she is and the way she acts. I do hope you guys enjoy, even if this one is considerably heavier than previous chapters. 
> 
> If anyone feels the need to skip this chapter, I'll provide a detailed summary of events in the notes at the end.

Catra didn’t run for long, mostly because she couldn’t. It had been a long day already, and she was exhausted. The rush of adrenaline that had fueled her, driven her from the house, across the street and into the depths of their suburban neighborhood left her almost as quickly as it had come, leaving her limbs feeling leaden. She didn’t stop moving, though. She wanted to be as far from the house as possible, as far from Asami as possible, as far from Yang…   
  
The thought of Yang made something hot and angry boil in her chest and she had to stop on the side of the road. She squatted down, curling her arms over her head, digging her claws into her scalp. She wanted to scream. She wanted to break something. Or maybe someone. She had trusted Yang. She’d  _ trusted  _ her. She’d felt comfortable with her, safe with her. She’d confided in her. 

She was a cheater. 

She was a liar.

_ Why should you have expected anything different? _ Zella’s voice was just as Catra remembered it when she was young. A thin, empty veneer of sympathy and warmth that could never hide the smugness beneath.  _ It’s your fault for believing they were ever your friends. Why should they care about you? You’re no one. Nothing. You always have been… _   
  
Catra staggered to her feet and took off again at a slow jog. She let her legs carry her without thinking about where she was going. She cut across yards, avoiding porch lights and streetlights, silent on her bare, clawed feet. A headache was forming behind her eyes, a dull pain that throbbed in time with her ragged heartbeat. 

_ I always knew you were a failure,  _ Zella's voice continued, taunting her.  _ Yet somehow you still find ways to disappoint me…  _

Catra hadn't conjured those words herself. They weren't insecurities manifesting as the taunts of her foster mother. They were a memory, a terribly sharp, painfully vivid memory. 

The last words her foster mother had said to her. 

* * *

Zella had started drinking pretty heavily after Adora left the second time - the last time, some part of Catra knew. They had fought all summer about Adora returning to school. It had come to a head the day Adora left. She and Zella had a massive fight. Things were thrown. Furniture was broken. Catra couldn't bring herself to watch. She’d fled to her room and hidden, like a coward.

For maybe a week, Catra had been sympathetic. She could understand, on some level, what Zella was feeling. She understood what it was like to be abandoned by someone you cared so deeply about, even if Zella’s versions of care and affection were warped, twisted things. She thought, maybe, without Adora to be compared to, Catra could be the daughter Zella had wanted instead. She’d spent more time with her foster mother that week, trying to talk to her, to tell her Adora wasn’t worth it. She'd tried to convince her that they would make it together, without her. 

It didn’t last long. She remembered the scorn in Zella’s eyes as she’d stared at her through a haze of bleary intoxication. She remembered the sneer on her lips, the absolute disdain naked in her expression. For the first time, she hadn’t even tried to hide or justify the absolute loathing she felt towards her younger daughter. It had broken something inside of Catra, something she didn’t even know was there to break. There was no more illusion that Catra  _ could  _ ever be what her foster mom wanted. She didn’t have to pretend it was because Adora was better, or that Catra could earn her praise if she was just  _ better  _ than she was. Somehow the knowledge that she never even had a chance at winning Zella’s dubious affection had snapped something hidden and secret inside of her. She'd kept her distance from Zella after that, spending most of her days out of the house, only coming home well after dark.    
  
Two weeks after Adora had left, Catra considered killing herself for the first time. 

She’d been out walking the neighborhood that day, aimlessly. Once upon a time, it had been planned to be an upscale, suburban neighborhood, advertised as being within walking distance of a new and popular strip mall. A recession had doused those plans pretty thoroughly, and the unfinished neighborhood was repurposed into low-income housing, condemning it and the failed strip mall to a life of being the part of town everybody drove through just a little too quickly. Catra had wandered by the sign across from the mostly abandoned shops with ‘For Rent’ ads in their boarded up windows. It had gone up back when the neighborhood still had a bright future, and once it had read ‘Freeland Heights’ in big, bold letters. That was still the neighborhood’s official name, but a renegade group of vandalizers had removed most of the letters from the sign, giving it its more commonly used nickname: the Frights. 

Catra clambered up to perch on the sign, watching the small handful of cars as they shot past, on their way to more important places. She didn’t know how long she lay there, feeling hopeless and empty. She wasn’t sad anymore. She wasn’t even really angry. She felt nothing. She was numb, and that numbness was a maddening, hollow thing inside of her that chewed at her mind with endless, droning boredom and despair. She might have dozed off, or just lay there, staring at a steely grey sky for an hour or so. She was having a harder time telling the difference between being awake and being asleep these days. That was when the thought had occurred to her. The first thought. 

_ What if I went to sleep and never woke up again? _

It hadn’t seemed like a remarkably profound thought at the time. Just a plea for an end to the empty numbness that had filled her life. Anything had to be better than this, right? Whatever there was...after. Worst case scenario, it was just like being asleep. And Catra felt so damn tired these days. She had no energy. No desire. No ambition or drive. Zella didn’t even bother to push her, not with Adora out of the picture. She didn’t need the example child anymore. 

_ Nobody would miss you if you were gone. _

She knew that was true. Adora had her new life and her new friends. Zella had never cared about her, even a little. She didn’t have anyone else, not really. She turned the thought over in her mind. She thought about what it would be like to close her eyes that night and know that everything would be over. The thought wasn’t terribly unpleasant, something she was sure should scare her more than it did. She toyed with the notion of writing a note. Would that get a response from Zella? Probably not. Could she leave one for Adora? What would it say? Would she tell her how she felt? How much she loved her? Or would it be the angry, hateful letter of accusation she sometimes came up with when she was trying to fall asleep?   
  
Catra had resumed her walk, but she couldn’t shake the thoughts from earlier. They were intrusive things that demanded to be examined. She told herself it was just a thought exercise, that it wasn’t like she was going to do it anyway. She could think about whatever she wanted, she’d justified to herself. She could think about the pros and cons of throwing herself in front of an oncoming car (Pros: fast and easy, minimal setup required; Cons: high risk of non-fatal injury, might end up hurting someone else) versus hanging herself (Pros: makes a statement, traumatizes her abuser, hard to back out; Cons: might not work, not sure if she had rope, chance to paralyze herself by mistake). Overdosing might have been ideal, but they didn’t have anything more powerful than over the counter painkillers on hand. And they didn’t have a garage to do that thing with a car and a hose.   
  
It was after dark by the time Catra had returned home. Zella was passed out in a chair in front of the television, the flickering light of which was the only light in the house. Catra moved through the darkness effortlessly on silent feet, gliding to the kitchen. She was having trouble remembering the last time she’d eaten. The fridge wasn’t exactly a safe place to find edible food these days, so she began to rummage through the cabinets instead. That was when she’d noticed the knife on the counter. She’d stared at it for a long minute. Slitting her wrists would be dramatic, surely, but she was reasonably sure it would be painful. Could she even manage it? Not that she was going to do it, of course. Just as part of the thought experiment. She turned back to the cabinet, picked out a packet of instant noodles, then turned to leave the kitchen. She paused, then picked up the knife and brought it with her. It was small, and she was pretty sure it was called a paring knife. She wasn’t going to  _ do  _ anything with it, she was just curious if it would be sharp enough to get the job done if she  _ was  _ going to do something. There was nothing wrong with testing a theory.

She passed by Zella’s liquor cabinet on the way to her room. She stopped again, then looked down the hall to where the television light flickered. Zella had always forbidden them from drinking, and she usually kept the cabinet locked tightly to dissuade them from stealing from her supply. Tonight, however, the cabinet was open just slightly, probably because she’d been too drunk to remember to close it properly behind her.    
  
If she was planning on tonight being her last night, which she wasn’t, Catra at least wanted to be able to say she had tried alcohol once in her life. She nudged the cabinet open and examined the bottles. A small one was tucked behind a few half-finished plastic containers of some kind of clear liquor. She took it - it seemed like the least likely one to be missed. It was glass, and the liquid inside was a dark brown color. She didn’t recognize the label, but the bottle proclaimed it to be some kind of whiskey.   
  
She’d stolen upstairs with the instant noodles, the knife and the bottle, locking the door to her miniscule room. She’d settled on the bed and opened the bottle, sniffing it experimentally. She recoiled instantly. It smelled awful, like medicine but worse. She’d seen television shows and movies where the characters complemented the depths of scents that could be smelled in liquor, and the multitude of tastes they experienced - almost none of which sounded appealing if she was being honest - so either they’d been bullshitting, or Zella drank the cheapest stuff she could find. Catra guessed the latter. 

She pressed her lips to the rim of the bottle and took an experimental sip. It tasted worse than it smelled, and burned her tongue and the back of her throat on the way down. She gagged a little and tore open her package of noodles, biting into them to take some of the edge away from the flavor. She stared at the little bottle as she chewed thoughtfully. She didn’t feel any different, though she hadn’t been expecting to immediately. There must be a reason that people liked it so much that they’d deal with even cheap stuff to get a fix. 

_ Fuck it _ , she thought.  _ Not like I’ve got anything to lose. _ She raised the bottle again and drank more deeply. She had intended to finish the whole thing in one pull, but the taste made her stop after two swallows. She composed herself, then finished it on the next pull. She ate more to make up for the horrid taste in her mouth, but the dry noodles did nothing for the burn in her throat that was spreading to her chest.    
  
Once she’d finished her food, she sat back against the wall, legs spread out on the bed in front of her. She tried to gauge how she was feeling, aside from slightly nauseated. Would she know when she was drunk? Had that little bottle been enough to get her drunk? Catra didn’t know. She just sat there, waiting. As she did, her eyes fell on the little paring knife she’d brought with her. She picked it up gingerly and examined the blade. She wasn’t sure how sharp it was, but she’d seen an infomercial about knives once where the guy selling them had used them to cut paper. She stood and crossed over to the cluttered, unused desk that was crammed against one wall and picked up a crumpled piece of paper. She straightened it out. It was a letter she’d started writing to Adora, telling her that she loved her. She’d written less than a paragraph before abandoning the project. Might as well put it to good use.   
  
She held the paper in one hand and drew the knife down it with the other. It went through the paper almost effortlessly, shearing off a corner as if it had been nothing. Catra raised her eyebrows. Apparently Zella liked to keep her knives sharp. She cut through the paper a few more times, giggling to herself as she did. She watched Adora’s name flutter to the ground before she dropped the paper back on the desk and retreated to the bed.    
  
She looked at the knife with wide eyes as she lay back, holding it above her head so that it caught the moonlight streaming in through her window. She twisted it, letting the little blade shine.  _ How bad could it hurt? _ she wondered as she looked at it. She wouldn’t have to do both wrists, right? She could just cut open one and she’d bleed out. Probably not as fast though. If she was going to do it, which she wasn’t. She put the tip of the blade against her right arm and dragged it down, raising a red line where it scratched her. That wasn’t so bad. She dragged the knife up and down her arm a few more times. It hurt more than if she scratched herself with her claws, but not much, and the scratches tingled a little bit. She tried idly to remember where the artery was in her wrist. She’d never paid much attention in biology before. Missing it would probably be a bad thing.    
  
Her head was beginning to swim. She blinked a few times. Was that the alcohol? She moved her head, looking left and right and the room seemed to lurch a little too quickly around her. She giggled. Her head felt heavy and rolling it back and forth was suddenly terribly amusing. She sat up and felt as if she’d been spinning in place, the room whirling around her momentarily in a way that was nearly as nauseating as it was amusing. Catra folded her legs and sat up, swaying back and forth, feeling suddenly as though she was on the deck of a ship. Not that she’d ever been on a ship, but this was what it must feel like, right? The bed rocking slightly, the world tilting in an oddly asynchronous way.    
  
“Yar har,” she said out loud, to nobody in particular. “A pirate’s life for me.” That made her laugh and the laughter felt...good. Her problems seemed distant all of a sudden. The absurdity of her conjured mental image made it hard to feel like the thoughts that had weighed her down so completely before even mattered. 

She examined the knife in her left hand again. A wild sort of recklessness seized her, and she placed the tip of the blade against her thumb, testing it. She put pressure slowly on the knife. She saw blood before she felt the pain, a tiny bead of it that swelled up around the point. Her eyes widened. Only then did she feel the pain, sharp and stabbing. She withdrew the knife and examined the bead of blood on her thumb. She could feel her heartbeat in it, and as she sat staring at it, it began to ache slightly. 

She brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked the blood away, tasting the iron tang of it on her tongue. Then she lowered her hand and looked at her arm. The little prick hadn't hurt nearly as much as she'd thought it would. How much worse could a cut hurt? She placed the sharp edge of the knife against her arm and began to slide it up and down over the little lines that marked where she'd scratched herself with the point. Her heart was beating a little too quickly. She rested the blade across her wrist, just holding it there, staring, letting the buzz of the alcohol blot out her other thoughts. Could it really be this simple…? 

Something downstairs made a loud thud, and Catra jumped, whirling to look at her door. After less than a heartbeat, silver pain erupted across her wrist, and she looked down to see a thin line of red as blood welled from the cut and began to run down her arm. 

Panic gripped her. She hadn't been planning to do it. It had been an accident. She couldn't tell how deep the cut was, but it hurt, and the blood kept running down her arm. She stood quickly and went for the door. Or at least, she meant to. When she stood, the room seemed to tilt beneath her feet and she stumbled, nearly losing her footing. Her hip slammed into the corner of her desk, and she grunted as it did. She righted herself and grabbed for the door handle, smearing blood on it as she went out into the hall, bumping into the doorframe as she went. 

Somebody had set the hallway on rotate, which was less than helpful as she lurched towards the stairs, careful not to use her bloodstained hands to steady herself on the wall. She nearly fell down the stairs twice, but managed to keep her balance at the last second. She paused long enough to look in on Zella, to make sure she was still asleep. The mostly empty bottle she'd been holding in her hand had slid from her limp grasp and hit the floor, evidently causing the noise that had startled her. The unholy racket she'd raised getting downstairs hadn't seemed to rouse her foster mom even a little.

She hit the door frame with her shoulder as she entered the kitchen and hissed in pain. Why didn’t anyone ever mention how hard it was to walk straight when you were drunk? She stumbled to the counter and snatched a wad of paper towels off of the roll. Her arm was a mess, and she pressed the paper towel to the cut. It hurt, throbbing in time with her heart the same way the prick on her thumb had, but worse. She didn’t know how badly she’d cut herself. How deep did it need to be to hit the artery? Had she even been in the right place to do that? Catra didn’t know, but as she stood there, the blood soaking into the paper towels, she didn’t feel herself getting cold or sleepy or anything. It hurt like hell, but Catra had endured enough pain that it didn’t bother her as much as it could have. A minute passed. Then another. She checked the wound on her wrist. It wasn’t bleeding as heavily now, so she tossed the paper towels and got another one, wetting it before wiping her hands and arm clean. Then she ran the cut under the cold water. It stung, but less than the cut had originally. Once the excess blood was washed away, she got another dry paper towel and pressed it against her wrist, holding it there.    
  
She leaned against the counter in relief. Her heartbeat slowed. The kitchen wasn’t spinning so badly now that she was standing still. And as she stood there, not bleeding out, something miraculous happened. Catra realized she felt calm. She realized she felt...pleasant. Not just because of the alcohol, though that was still there, keeping the things that had been haunting her as unimportant background noise. There was something else to it. She felt a sense of inner peace she hadn’t felt in...no, she’d never felt this way. She felt in control of herself. She didn’t feel as though her life was spinning out of her hands, or wasting away while she watched it vanish hour after agonizing hour. She felt  _ good _ . She took a deep breath in, closed her eyes, and sank into that feeling like it was a hot bath at the end of an impossibly long day.

That night had been an important one for Catra. It had shown her that she didn’t really want everything to be over, not yet at least. She just needed to change the rules she was living by. She was reasonably sure she could do that.    
  
The next day, she’d walked to the bodega across from the neighborhood. It was the only business that had managed to weather the recession, and it stood out starkly against the empty, abandoned buildings around it. She’d asked after the owner, a faunus woman she’d seen a few times who introduced herself as Scorpia, and asked for a job. Scorpia, it turned out, was an uncommonly friendly person, and took a liking to Catra immediately. She’d hired her after a ten minute conversation, and had her trying on vests before the hour was out.

  
Catra didn’t tell Zella about her new job. She didn’t feel the need to. They hardly spoke to one another, and Zella seemed to expect Catra to be gone for long stretches of time. The job itself wasn’t so bad. It was tedious, monotonous, and slow more often than not. She was one of half a dozen employees who worked there, though she didn’t go out of her way to make friends with anybody. That didn’t stop Scorpia from chatting her up whenever they were on shift together. She’d make oblique offers to hang out outside of work from time to time, but Catra always dodged those. She wasn’t in this job to get close to anybody. She was done with that. The only thing letting in other people got you was pain, and not the kind that Catra was interested in enduring anymore. 

She spent her nights drinking what she dared to steal from Zella’s liquor cabinet and, when things seemed too overwhelming, or when the numbness threatened to settle back in, cutting herself with her stolen knife. The third time she’d cut her wrist, the pain had almost made her throw up. After that, she’d started alternating, cutting into her thighs to give her arm a break and a chance to heal. Those were easier to hide anyways, and for three months, she fell into something resembling a routine.   
  
In those three months - and with a generous advance on her pay from Scorpia- she’d pulled together enough money to afford the down payment and security deposit on a tiny studio apartment in a complex thirty minutes up the road from the bodega on foot. It wasn’t fancy. In fact, by most people’s standards, it would probably have been barely liveable. But she could afford it, which was the only thing that particularly mattered to her.

Catra debated not telling Zella that she was leaving at all. She wondered what the old hag would do if she just didn’t come home one day. She imagined the look on her face when she realized her other daughter, the daughter she’d never given a damn about, had left her. Just like Adora had.   
  
In the end, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Maybe if she was a healthier person, she could have been happy with the sense of accomplishment moving out brought her on its own merit. But as it stood, she wanted to throw it in Zella’s face.   
  
Besides, it wasn’t practical. Zella may not give Catra much notice these days, but even she would have guessed something was amiss when she saw her leave with a duffle bag slung over her shoulders and a single cardboard box in her arms. Scorpia had agreed to meet her at the bodega to give her a ride to her new place that morning before their shift, and so Catra made her way downstairs, carrying all of her worldly possessions in her arms or on her back. She’d left most of her things behind, only choosing to bring that which was absolutely necessary. Zella had been in the kitchen at the time. Catra could smell the scent of coffee and cigarette smoke that marked her foster mother’s morning routine. She’d evidently heard her, because she appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, giving her a narrow, calculating look.   
  
Zella Weaver must have been a striking woman in her youth. She was tall, with inky black hair that fell to the small of her back. Though it was often greasy and unwashed these days, Catra had seen it glossy and shiny back when she’d cared more for her outward appearance. Her face had deep lines in it from the scowl that was nearly a permanent part of her features, and her skin had an unhealthy, greyish tint to it. But it was Zella’s eyes that must have once been her most enchanting feature. They were deep, deep green and very intense. They were the kind of eyes that people wrote songs about, the kind of eyes you might imagine to belong to some beautiful princess in a romantic fantasy novel or something. Which just went to show, Catra had always thought bitterly, that you can never trust the way a thing looks on the surface. 

Zella’s green eyes were currently fixed on Catra. She appraised her for a beat, then leaned against the door frame, smoke curling from the cigarette she held loosely between her fingers. “This should be amusing,” she said, bringing it to her thin lips and taking a drag. Her voice was a rich alto, though ragged at the edges from years of smoking   
  
Catra tensed up, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she bared her teeth reflexively at her foster mother. Her tail thrashed as she forced herself to calm down. “I’m moving out,” she said after a moment, her voice reasonably level. “I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.”   
  
Zella arched an eyebrow. Catra hated when she did that. She exhaled slowly and smoke billowed from her nose, making Catra cough. “No you’re not,” Zella said simply, as if just by saying it, the universe would bend to make it be so.   
  
Catra’s anger flared again, hotter. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”   
  
Zella rolled her eyes. “It means what it means. Clearly you’re upset about something, trying to ‘make a statement.’ I can hardly imagine what, it’s not like I ask anything from you. Nothing I expect to get done, in any case.” She paused to take another drag from the cigarette. “Why don’t you skip to the part where you tell me what you want and save whatever poor soul you’re forcing yourself on for a few nights the trouble of putting up with you.”   
  
Catra’s ears flattened and she clenched her teeth so hard she thought they would crack. “I don’t want anything,” she said. “I’m leaving. I have an apartment. A job. I don’t need you anymore, you sad, pathetic cow.”   
  
If Zella was surprised at Catra’s assertion or hurt by the insult, she showed neither. She just stared at Catra impassively, taking another long drag from the cigarette. She paused long enough to make Catra wonder if she was going to say anything else. “I see,” she finally said, an iciness to her voice that sent a shiver down Catra’s spine. “The bodega, I take it? I can’t think of anywhere else that would take you. And I know you haven’t been stealing my car.”   
  
Catra felt her mouth go dry, but she nodded curtly.    
  
Zella shook her head. “I suppose it’s something.” She turned and went back to the coffee machine, leaving Catra stunned in the hall. She should have left then. She should have left and never looked back, but something hot and angry made her drop the box and follow her into the kitchen.   
  
“That’s it?” she said, furious. “That’s all you have to say?”   
  
Zella ground out her cigarette in an ashtray and poured herself a cup of coffee before turning slowly to face Catra once more. “What would you like me to say?” she asked, as if she were asking Catra what she wanted for dinner. 

There was a muscle working in Catra’s jaw. “I don’t know! You always have  _ something _ to say. You’ve kept me trapped here my whole life, doing everything you’ve wanted, dancing on the end of your string like a goddamned puppet. You were furious that Adora applied to Beacon behind your back! You basically kept me locked in this shithole so that I couldn’t follow her! Then you tried for a whole fucking summer to stop Adora from leaving again! So spit it out! Whatever it is, just fucking  _ say it _ already so I can move the fuck on with my life!” There were tears burning in the corner of Catra’s eyes, and she had to force herself to hold them back.   
  
Zella sighed and set her coffee cup aside. She approached Catra, who flinched, but didn’t move. She reached up a hand and tucked a strand of her long, messy hair carefully behind her ear. Then she touched Catra, lightly on the cheek. The infinitesimally small, utterly empty gesture of affection broke Catra, and she felt the tears falling freely. She looked away, trying not to let Zella see, but she knew it was pointless. “I only ever wanted one thing from you,” Catra said, her voice shaking slightly. “I just wanted you to make her stay. And you didn’t.” She met Zella’s eyes again, and despite the tears, her expression was hot and angry. “So I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me. Not this time.”   
  
Zella held her gaze for a long moment, then turned back to the counter, picking up her mug and sipping her coffee. “I suppose this time comes for all mothers,” she said, pensively, almost as if Catra wasn’t there. “Empty nest and whatnot. One of my girls is a star athlete for one of the best schools in the world, on a full-ride scholarship. The other...is stocking shelves and renting a dirt cheap apartment, while convincing herself she’s somehow ‘making her way in the world.’”   
  
Catra stiffened. Her ears flattened against her head, her eyes widened. Zella looked over her shoulder and met Catra’s gaze once more. For the last time.

“I always knew you were a failure,” she said, and her voice was empty of anything resembling affection or warmth. “Yet somehow, you still find ways to disappoint me.” She’d turned her back on Catra then, sipping her coffee and staring out the window at the overgrown backyard. Catra had stood still, her legs unwilling to move for several long minutes.    
  
Then she’d gathered her things, and left. She didn’t look back.

* * *

When Catra emerged from the haze of memories, she’d arrived at her destination. The playground wasn’t the same as the one she’d often found herself loitering at back in the Frights. This one was nicer than the one back home, but it was still suffering from neglect. Children just weren’t as interested in frequenting playgrounds these days, it would seem. Or, maybe more likely, they just had better ways to entertain themselves at home and their parents were less inclined to sit around doing nothing for hours at a time. Whatever the reason, the park had certainly seen better days, and Catra could often count on it as a place to come when she needed to be alone.    
  
However, that wasn’t the only purpose the playground served for Catra. She made her way over to the roundabout, though her pace was slow and uncertain as she did. When they’d first moved in with Asami - hot anger flashed through Catra at the thought of her; she was just as much of a cheater and a liar as Yang had turned out to be - she’d gone shopping for some necessities so that they wouldn’t have to mooch off the others for food. Adora had been busy, so she’d gone alone, for the first time since they’d moved to Republic City. That had turned out to be a mistake. She hadn’t meant to wander into the section of the store that carried their alcohol, but she had nonetheless. Some twisted chance of fate had drawn her attention to a shelf that had held a very familiar label - the same cheap whiskey that she’d stolen from Zella’s liquor cabinet almost four years ago. 

Catra still didn’t know what compelled her to buy it. She’d felt like she was in a dream, not completely in control of her own actions as she’d lifted it from the shelf and placed it in her basket. She’d made sure to buy it separately from the other groceries, and she’d tossed out the receipt on her way out of the store so Adora would never know. She hadn’t intended to drink it, truthfully, and the moment she was out of the store, she felt like she’d woken from some kind of trance. She’d felt horrible, and she promised herself she’d throw it out as soon as she got home.    
  
But she didn’t. She’d shoved it into a little bag and gone for a walk, eventually finding her way to the very playground she was standing in now. Just like then, her eyes had fallen on the slightly rusted roundabout, its paint faded from days and days of exposure to the elements. She’d gone to the center pillar, around which the broad disk would spin while children hung onto the handlebars for dear life. The center pillar was hollow, and by shoving her claws into the groove under the cap that covered it, she could wrench it off and expose the empty space beneath - the perfect hiding spot for her secret stash. 

She withdrew the little bottle and stared at it, dread and a terrible excitement filling her in equal measure. Some part of her had always known she would come back for it. She hadn’t even lasted a month. She was breathing heavily, in a way that was entirely unrelated to her jog mere minutes ago.

She stepped off the roundabout without making it spin and walked to the basketball court next to the playground. There was a set of metal bleachers set up, and she sat on the lowest of those, staring at the bottle in her hand. For several minutes, Catra didn’t do anything. Eventually one hand reached for the pocket of her shorts, but there was nothing there. She hadn’t bothered to take the little medallion out of her pants pocket before going downstairs, why would she have? She’d just gotten it today. Four months. Another relapse. She tried to imagine what Qrow might say about that, but came up with nothing. She didn’t know the man well enough to guess. Thinking of Qrow brushed up against Yang in her memories and she screwed her eyes shut in fury and in pain. 

Without opening her eyes, Catra twisted the top off the bottle, the crackling sound of the seal breaking sounding louder than it had any right to be in the silence of the night around her. The smell of the whiskey burned her nose and the back of her throat, and she could feel her hands shaking. She opened her eyes and stared at the bottle for a long moment. She felt so fucking tired. She was tired of being hurt, tired of being angry, of being upset. She was tired of disappointing herself. She was tired of disappointing Adora. 

Adora… 

She wondered what she'd think when she found her. She could see her face so clearly in her mind. She could see the fierce pride in her eyes, feel the warmth of her hands, the strength in her arms as she'd held her. No matter what she told her, no matter what she believed, Catra would never be worth her. She would never deserve her. She never had.

_ Adora said you were strong _ , some part of her said.  _ Are you really going to let her down like this? _   


The little bottle felt impossibly heavy in her hand.  _ I’m not strong _ , she thought.  _ I’m just a coward _ . She swallowed past a lump in her throat. She felt helpless. What was the fucking point of trying so hard every day? She knew what kind of person she was. Who was she to think that she could change or resist temptation?   
  
She raised the bottle and pressed the rim against her lips with her trembling hands. She held it there for what seemed like a long time. The smell of the cheap liquor made her stomach turn over a few times. 

_ Adora believes in you, _ the small voice said.  _ If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for her _ .  
  
Tears burned in Catra’s eyes. Her chest felt tight. She could finish the bottle in one pull, and then she wouldn’t have to feel so conflicted, or upset, or anything besides numb and floaty and…

...and ashamed. And worthless. And weak.

Slowly, very slowly, Catra lowered the bottle from her lips. Her fingers slackened, and it fell from her hand. It didn’t have far to fall before it hit the blacktop, but it struck the hard asphalt at an angle, sending a long crack through the glass and breaking the bottle cleanly into two pieces. Tears ran silently down her face as she stared at the shattered glass and the spilled liquor. She hated that the sharp edge of the broken bottle looked nearly as inviting as the whiskey had a moment ago.    
  
“Catra!” Catra’s ears perked up and she glanced in the direction of the voice. “Catra! Are you there?” She saw the beam of a flashlight sweep over the playground, and then move in her direction. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes against the sudden brightness, and saw Adora following from more or less the same direction she’d come from. She had on a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts and a United Republic jersey. Her hair was still down, tangled and messy from their earlier activity. There was a look of nearly panicked concern on her face before she found Catra. Relief hit her like a physical wave and she jogged over to the basketball court, making sure to keep the flashlight out of Catra’s eyes.   
  
“Hey Adora,” Catra said as she got within a yard of her. Adora stopped short, the beam of light she held in her hand glittering off of the broken bottle. Adora looked from the bottle, the liquid still pooling around it like dark blood in the shadows cast by the flashlight.    
  
“Catra,” Adora said, and there was an anguished concern in her voice. “Where…” she stopped herself, though it looked like it took an effort for her to do so. She swallowed, then said, “How much did you-”   
  
“I didn’t,” Catra interrupted her quickly. “I mean, I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. But I didn’t.”   
  
Adora’s eyes flickered back and forth between each of Catra’s mismatched ones, but eventually she nodded, some of the tension going out of her shoulders. “I believe you,” she said. She stepped carefully around the sharp glass and sat next to Catra on the bleachers. She was eyeing the edge of the bottle now, Catra noted wearily, and she was pretty sure she knew why. With a sigh, Catra turned over her right arm, the raised scars casting weird shadows across her skin in the light of Adora’s flashlight. Adora didn’t say anything, and her expression didn’t change, but Catra saw more of the tension leave her body nonetheless.   
  
They sat for a moment in silence, Catra looking anywhere but Adora. “So,” she said after a moment, breaking the tension, “I guess the others told you what happened.” She glanced sideways at Adora, who was watching her with a carefully guarded expression.   
  
Adora seemed to consider that. “Yes,” she said after a pause. “At least, Asami told me part of it.” Adora took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You’ve got to stop running off like that,” she said, only the faintest note of reproach in her voice. “You really worried me.”   
  
Catra’s whole body tensed, and she felt hot anger pulsing in her chest again. She jerked her hand out of Adora’s grasp, turning to face her fully. “If they told you what happened, then you know why I left,” she said. “I trusted Yang, Adora. I opened myself up to her and to see her and Asami-” she cut off, fury and betrayal making her throat too tight to speak. Adora’s expression was pained and sympathetic, but there was something else in it that Catra couldn’t recognize.   
  
“It wasn’t like that Catra,” Adora said, a pleading edge to her voice.   
  
“Then they lied to you!” Catra said, raising her voice. She was on her feet now, stalking back and forth. Her whole body felt like a coiled spring with nowhere to go. “They were  _ fucking  _ in the godammned kitchen, Adora!” she spat. “I don’t know what else it could be  _ like _ .”   
  
Adora flinched but got to her feet, being careful to step around the broken bottle. “Catra, I know it looks bad for them, but you have to listen to me-”   
  
“Are you seriously going to stand there and  _ defend  _ them? To me?” A horrible, jagged pain tore at Catra’s chest. “They  _ cheated _ , Adora, they  _ lied  _ to everyone!”   
  
“They weren’t cheating!” Adora said, something close to real fear in her eyes. Catra rocked her head back as if Adora had slapped her, but before she could do more than sputter incoherently in response, Adora barreled on. “Asami and Yang are dating!”   
  
That stopped Catra cold. Her mouth hung open, a sharp retort caught on the tip of her tongue as she looked at Adora, flabbergasted. Adora took advantage of her silence. “Korra and Blake are dating, too. And Blake and Asami, and Korra and Yang and, you know, all possible combinations. They’re polyamorous.”   
  
Catra blinked. “They’re...what?”   
  
“Polyamorous,” Adora repeated. “They’re all...involved, in one way or another. I don’t really understand it very well honestly. Yang explained it to me once, but it was a long time ago, and there was definitely drinking happening.”

That set off a chain of alarm bells in Catra’s already straining mind. “You knew!?” There was an accusation in her voice, and Catra could feel her fists balling up in rage. Adora seemed to sense the change in her and realized what she’d said.    
  
“No! I mean, not exactly,” she said quickly. “Like I said, Yang told me she was poly back in college, but I hadn’t known her to have many serious relationships, so I didn’t think about it much. Then we came here, and she was with Blake, so I assumed maybe it was something she’d grown out of or whatever. Then...well, last night, with the whole truth or dare thing…” she trailed off, looking away from Catra.   
  
Pieces began to fall into place around her. Of course they would all be comfortable and flirty with each other if they were cross-dating or whatever. What had Yang said earlier in the cafe?   
  
_ The four of us have, well, let’s just say a lot of history. _

“I was going to talk to you about it, but we were both busy today, and then you kind of drove it out of my mind earlier.” A light blush colored Adora’s cheeks and Catra felt hers heat up a little in response, her flare of anger towards Adora fading. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her responsibility to share her suspicions about their housemates’ relationships.    
  
It was theirs.

“Why did they lie to us?” Catra asked, her voice sounding a little rough. Adora shook her head.   
  
“I don’t know. Asami wanted me to bring you back so that we could all sit down and talk about it. All of us.”   
  
Catra’s jaw clenched. “Why should we believe anything they tell us is the truth?” she snapped.   
  
Adora gave her a pleading look. “They’re our friends, Catra. Just because they made a mistake doesn’t mean we can’t trust them.”   
  
“Easy for you to say,” Catra said, and there was venom in the words. “People don’t lie for no reason. For all we know, they were trying to, I don’t know, groom us or something, see if we were interested in joining their sex cult or whatever this thing they do is.”   
  
Adora gave her a reproachful look. “You can’t believe that,” she said.   
  
“I don’t know what to believe!” Catra snarled. “All I know is that they lied, purposefully, for a whole fucking  _ month _ to our faces! And besides,” she said, her claws digging into her palms as she clenched her fists, “Asami isn’t just a ‘friend.’ We rent from her. She controls how we live. You know how well it went for me last time someone like that lied to me.”   
  
There was a heavy pause before Adora closed the distance between them, taking one of Catra’s hands and weaving their fingers together. She looked at her, with a calm, if slightly pained expression. “No, I actually don’t,” she said, very gently. “I know things were bad for you for a while, but you’ve never actually told me what happened between moving out of Zella’s and when the hospital called. Not the details, at least. And that’s okay,” she said as Catra opened her mouth to say something defensive. “It’s your choice. I’ll never make you relive anything you don’t want to. But it does mean that there are some things that are going to be harder for me to understand.”   
  
Catra stared at Adora for a long moment, then turned away from her, letting her hand fall as she paced across the blacktop. It felt rough on her bare feet, calloused though they were. Her breathing was a little ragged, and she stared around at the neighborhood around her, as if hoping an answer to her problems would manifest out of the deeper patches of shadow.    
  
“It’s...not a period of my life that I’m proud of,” Catra finally said, carefully, “and that’s really saying something.”   
  
She felt Adora come closer to her, felt her arms wrap around her waist, strong and resolute. Catra leaned her head against Adora’s shoulder, her eyes closing as she focused on her girlfriend’s warm presence.    
  
“I will always love you,” Adora said, softly. “Nothing you say can change that.”   
  
Catra felt tears sliding down her cheeks again at the words. She hoped, desperately, that Adora was telling the truth. Zella’s voice didn’t contradict her, but she did imagine the sneer of contempt on her foster mother’s mouth as she began to tell her story.   


* * *

The year after Catra moved out of Zella’s house was almost a happy one. At the very least, it wasn’t as painfully miserable as the summer before. Catra’s new apartment was miniscule, with a tiny joke of a kitchen, a bed that folded into the wall, and a bathroom she could just about turn around in, but at least it was  _ her  _ space. She walked to work most days, and Scorpia continued her slightly misguided attempts at friendship when they were on shift together. She’d even met someone who lived in her building that she got along with alright. Her name was Entrapta, and she was either a certifiable genius or just certifiable. Catra was pretty sure she was somewhere on the spectrum, but she was nice enough, and since Catra was apparently one of the few people who had ever spoken to her (once, while checking her perpetually empty mailbox), Entrapta had taken that to mean that the pair of them were friends. 

Still, some days it was all Catra could do to convince herself to get out of bed and go about her day. She spent most of her days off dozing or staring at the walls. When she felt excruciatingly numb, she would cut herself. She had gotten better at managing the pain and focusing on the rush it brought her. With disposable income for the first time in her life, Catra bought and tried beer more often. It didn’t taste great, but one or two of them were enough to get her pleasantly buzzed and helped her fall asleep after her shift. As time went on, however, she found herself needing to drink more to get the same results. She started drinking most nights. Her one or two beers quickly became a six pack. It was at that point, about four months after moving out of Zella’s, that she switched to liquor. Cheap liquor gave her more for her money, she reasoned, and she needed something stronger to offset her growing tolerance.   
  
However, even with a more cost-effective way to get her fix, Catra found herself spending most of her income that wasn’t spent on rent and utilities on booze. She’d told herself at some point that she’d put some money away for a cheap phone, or a television for her apartment, but somehow she never seemed to want those things more than she wanted another drink. She came to dread the hours she was sober at work, and would fix herself mixed drinks in soda bottles to help take the edge off during the day.

The first time Catra had to decide between paying rent and buying alcohol, Catra stole from the bodega. It hadn’t been difficult. Scorpia had been giving her more responsibilities, including closing the store at night. It had been trivial for her to figure out how to sneak a few bottles out without the security cameras seeing. She’d thought she was pretty clever at the time, and for a couple of months, her situation was stable. But inevitably, Scorpia caught on to what she was doing. The day Scorpia confronted her about the theft had been a painful one. Catra remembered Scorpia crying, and feeling more numb than she ever had before. Scorpia told her that she wouldn't press charges, but had no choice but to fire her. Catra handed over her things and left, spending most of the next several days in a drunken haze. 

She'd scraped by for a little bit after that. She borrowed money from Entrapta, most of it for alcohol, though that dried up when Scorpia had a long heart to heart with her about what was 'best' for Catra long-term. There wasn't much in the way of jobs for her within walking distance, and even the places she could take the bus to weren't interested in hiring her. After she missed her second rent payment, she received an eviction notice. Her apartment might have been a shit hole, but evidently they didn't drag their feet when it came to uncooperative tenants. Catra was on the street with everything she still owned in a bag slung over her back by the end of the week. 

Things got difficult after that, and being homeless was almost the least of her troubles. Without any money, she was sober more often than not. She didn't like being sober. The weather was turning as well. Late fall was cresting into an early, bitter winter, and she spent what time she could at a train station a couple hour’s walk from the bodega. Occasionally she’d be able to convince people to give her some money, ostensibly for a train ticket, that she could spend on a drink or a cheap meal. But as the nights grew longer and colder, Catra found herself thinking more and more about just laying down one night on the tracks and not having to worry about what she would eat the next day or where she was going to sleep tomorrow night. 

It had been a number of weeks, maybe a couple of months, since she’d been evicted. Time didn’t mean much to her these days. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a shower, and it had been at least two days since she’d eaten anything. She’d spent the last bit of money she’d been given on a small bottle of vodka. She held the broken neck of the bottle in her hand at the moment, gripping the glass tightly. She was in the remains of the failed strip mall. She’d broken into one of the abandoned shops the day before and had spent the night there. Now she was staring at the bodega she’d worked in, contemplating it seriously. How hard could it be to break in once they were closed? She could probably break open the register, take a fair amount of money. She could steal some food and alcohol as well, that would keep her going for a few days.

She spent the day watching the bodega. Scorpia didn’t seem to be working today, which was fine by her. As afternoon turned to evening, she chanced a walk around the shopping center, trying to get an idea of who was closing. If it was Kyle, she could be reasonably sure he’d leave the back door unlocked, making her life much easier. As she slunk out around the far side of the store, keeping to the dark spots beneath molded awnings, she saw a car she didn’t recognize pull up to the gas pump. Catra didn’t know much about cars, but she was at least savvy enough to recognize a Satomobile when she saw one. If she were to guess, she would have said it was a luxury car. It had a long body, and looked a little rectangular. It was pure white, with what looked like tail fins flaring from the back. In this part of town, the car looked jarringly out of place.

Of course, if the car looked out of place, it was nothing compared to its owner. The man who got out of the car was tall, well over six feet, with shoulders like a professional linebacker. He wore a tight, sleeveless shirt that showed off arms to match his shoulders, as well as dark green trousers that look like they were probably tailored to fit him. He was unnaturally pale, Catra noticed, and his hair was completely white. He wore it in dreadlocks that fell carelessly around his shoulders. There was an air of confidence to the man that, combined with his nice car and designer clothes, made Catra sure he had money. Maybe not millionaire money or anything, but head and shoulders above the average income around here. She crept closer, curious if this was the kind of guy who might consider a thousand lien ‘pocket change.’ He was filling his car up at the pump and flicking through screens on his phone when he must have sensed Catra’s attention. He looked at her and their eyes met. His were an acid green, and for a weird moment, Catra could have sworn he had too many of them. Then she realized that he had a pair of tattoos, one above and one below his right eye. Each of them seemed to be a recreation of his own eye in ink, giving him a lopsided, but intimidating, appearance.    
  
The man stared at her, curiously, for a long moment, then beckoned to her. Catra tensed up. It was one thing to make an approach to a stranger to ask for money. She wasn’t at all sure what to think about being called over to him. Still, she was desperate, and if he was looking to stroke his ego by being charitable, Catra wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity. She closed the distance between them slowly, in her own time, trying to maintain a small shred of dignity despite her filthy clothes, ragged mane of hair and non-existent personal hygiene. The man inclined his head to her as she stopped a few yards from him.    
  
“Good evening, Miss,” he said. His voice was pleasant enough to listen to, a mild baritone that definitely didn’t sound like it belonged to a man with face tattoos.    
  
Catra didn’t let it lower her guard, but she did swallow a sharp retort. “What’s up?” she said instead, folding her arms across her chest in a way she hoped looked tough rather than self-conscious. 

The man gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was going to ask you the same thing, Miss,” he said, politely. “You seemed to be watching me very closely.”   
  
Catra swallowed and shrugged. “Don’t get many new faces in the neighborhood. Most people who don’t live around here tend to steer clear of us.”   
  
The man seemed to consider that a moment. “Yes, I suppose the Frights do have something of a reputation,” he admitted. “But I’m new in town, and needed somewhere to stay a little last-minute. I figured it would be a better investment to buy a cheap house outright than it would be to rent an unnecessarily expensive apartment.”   
  
Catra furrowed her brow at that. “You’re going to live around here?” she asked, her tone flat disbelief. She shot a look at his car, then back to him. “No offense, Mister, but you’re going to stand out a bit. In the Frights, that’s almost never a good thing.”   
  
He shrugged, the gesture supremely nonchalant as the gas pump clicked, indicating it was done. “I’m not worried,” he said. Catra believed him. He hung up the nozzle and looked back at Catra, curiously. “You know this neighborhood well?”   
  
Catra paused, then nodded slowly. “Grew up around here, yeah.”   
  
The man gave her a thoughtful look. “I could use someone who knows this area well. I’m something of an entrepreneur, you see, and it would be helpful to my… business, if I had a friend I could rely on to help me get things off the ground.”   
  
Catra narrowed her eyes, her tail flicking in agitation. “What’s the catch?”   
  
“No catch,” the man assured her. He gave her a calculating look. “Why don’t you let me buy you a meal, and we can talk?”   


“I’m not hungry,” Catra said, and her stomach took that moment to let out an embarrassingly contradictory growl. She felt her cheeks flush.    
  
The man looked at her for a long while, then said, “Wait here a moment.” He turned and disappeared inside the bodega.

Catra stared after him, wondering if she should just cut her losses and bolt. Surely whoever was closing had seen her by now. She should leave and try again in a few days. She was pretty sure Kyle worked Thursdays anyway. Yet, something kept her from leaving. She paced a few times, glanced at the windows of the bodega, then paced some more. Ten minutes later, the man returned with a plastic shopping bag. He held it out to her, and she looked at it suspiciously before darting forward to take it. She made sure she was out of arm’s reach when she looked inside it. There were a few bottles of water, a dozen of those meal replacement energy bars, and a few bags of chips inside. She swallowed past a lump in her throat as she looked at the veritable feast, then back up at the man.    
  
He waved a hand before she could manage a thank you. “I’m still looking for a friend in town,” he said. “It looks to me like you might be, too. I wrote my address on the receipt. If you change your mind, stop by some time.”   
  
Catra hesitated a moment, then nodded. She turned to leave, to return to her temporary den and finally eat something, but she stopped and looked over her shoulder before she’d gone five paces.   
  
“I’m Catra,” she said.    
  
The man had opened his door, but turned to meet her gaze, giving her another calculating look. “You can call me Prime,” he said, simply. Then he slid into the car and Catra heard the engine roar to life.

She thought about Prime and his offer a lot over the next few days as she carefully rationed his gift of water and food. Part of her was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. The thought of a hot meal, or maybe a drink if she could convince him, was so tempting it made her stomach ache. On the other hand, going over to a stranger’s house - a stranger who was a decade older and at least a hundred pounds heavier than her - when she was as alone and vulnerable as she was seemed like she was begging to be part of some serial killer documentary twenty years from now. And that wasn’t even a worst case scenario. Still, Catra found herself sticking close to the bodega, trying to catch another glimpse of his car, and studying the address he’d left for her on the back of the receipt, along with some rudimentary directions that would take her from the failed strip mall to his house.    
  
It was the cold that drove her to find him in the end. The first night the weather dipped below freezing, her scavenged jacket from the train station lost and found hadn’t been enough to keep her warm. Between the temperature and the shivers she already felt when she was sober for too long, she’d hardly slept at all. She knew she couldn’t endure another night or two like that.    
  
Prime’s car had been in the driveway when she arrived, her bag slung over her shoulder. She stood across the street from the house, staring for a while. It was probably one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, though that merely meant that it had a garage and presumably a room above it. The downstairs blinds were all drawn, but the presence of the car, and a shifting quality to the light inside indicated that he was home. She found that odd, given that it was the middle of a weekday, but at least she wouldn’t have to be stuck waiting around for him for hours.  
  
After a quarter of an hour of anxious indecision, Catra crossed the street, walked up the porch steps and rang the doorbell. She glanced around her as she did. She was a long way from Zella’s house, and most of her peers she’d grown up with playing soccer or going to school had moved on from the Frights long ago, but she still didn’t relish the idea of being recognized. The door opened a few seconds later, and she looked up to see Prime, smiling down at her. When he opened the door, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke rolled over her, and she had to fight not to crinkle her nose at the smell. It wasn’t exactly like she smelled that pleasant herself, she’d reasoned.  
  
“Catra,” he said, his pleasant voice containing a note of surprise that at least seemed authentic. “I’m so glad to see you.”   
  
Catra felt her heart beating faster, but she tried not to let her nervousness show. “I, uh, thought I’d take you up on that meal. And, you know, have a chat.”   
  
Prime’s smile deepened. “By all means, please, come inside.” He stood back, gesturing for her to enter. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before slipping past him and into the house.

It was furnished sparingly, but what was there was high quality. The living room had a single large reclining chair that looked very comfortable. An ashtray with half a cigarette burning lazily in it sat on the arm. A large, brand-new television was mounted on one wall, playing a movie Catra had never seen. The drawn blinds cast the room into a weird half-light, and in the shafts of sunlight the blinds let bleed through, Catra could see coils of smoke twisting in the air. The floorspace was taken up with beanbags, large squashy looking pillows, and covered with some kind of lush-looking carpet, almost as if the space was intended to be lounged in rather than used like a traditional living room.    
  
This suspicion was confirmed by a number of people who were currently occupying the room, half a dozen in total. Two of them were weirdly boneless as they swiveled to look at the newcomer. Their pupils were unnaturally huge and blown-out as they stared at her. Two more occupants were making out furiously in a corner on what might have been a mattress of some kind, oblivious to the world around them. Another occupant stared at the television with glassy eyes, while another was seemingly passed out but for his arm, which was running up and down his bare chest in a slow, lazy gesture.    
  
As she was taking in the scene before her, Prime put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched a little at the touch, but didn’t pull away. “These are a few of my friends,” Prime said, by way of introduction. Catra waited for him to give her names, or give them hers, but he didn’t. She waved awkwardly, and one of the ones who had actually bothered to look up at her waved back slowly before returning his gaze to the television.    
  
“Are...are they okay?” Catra asked softly. She felt Prime chuckle behind her.   
  
“They’re more than okay. This is a place where people can come to indulge themselves. We all feel the need to escape from the world now and then, wouldn’t you agree?” He didn’t wait for Catra to answer before continuing. “I provide that escape, Catra. I give people what they want. What they need. Peace.” He squeezed her shoulder gently.    
  
Catra watched the half-dozen individuals, all high on one thing or another. She connected the dots. “You’re a dealer,” she said quietly.    
  
“That word has some very ugly connotations,” Prime said, “but yes, I suppose you could call me that.”    
  
She shrugged out of his grip and turned to face him. He was watching her closely, his expression impassive. “What do you want from me?” she said after a minute.   
  
Prime gave her a small smile. “I want to give you a home. I want to give you a room, and a bed. And in exchange, I want you to work for me. I need help figuring out the new territory and getting to know the locals. Maybe you can even help me make a few connections if things go well. But mostly, Catra, I want to give you the same thing I give everyone who comes to me. I want to give you peace.”   
  
Catra averted her eyes from Prime’s lopsided gaze. Part of her, the sane part of her, was telling her to leave now, while she still had a chance. Prime was obviously more than he appeared, and her instincts were screaming that he was a dangerous person. She knew she couldn’t trust him, she knew she shouldn’t rely on him.    
  
But…

She had nowhere else to go. She had no one else to turn to.    
  
She had no other options.   
  
“Okay,” she said softly. “Let’s talk.”

* * *

"Things went okay for a while," Catra said, staring at her hands as she spoke. They had relocated to the bleachers, sitting on the third bench, and on the opposite corner from the broken bottle. She could feel Adora's eyes on her like a physical weight, but she didn't dare meet them. "Prime was good to his word. Even gave me some money for new clothes. I had a place to sleep, real food, and all the alcohol I could ask for. Better stuff than I was used to. And in exchange, I told him everything I knew about the Frights. He wanted to know about hangout spots mostly, and any other dealers in the area.

"Then he started asking me to do more." She could sense the tension in Adora beside her, and her tail twitched in response. "He wanted me to sell. Said it was easier for me to approach new prospects, since I was younger and a girl and all. I didn't want to but…" Catra shivered. "He wasn't good at taking no for an answer. He was scary when he was mad. Scarier than Zella had ever been. Besides, everything I had at that point, I had because of him, and he didn't let me forget it. If I didn't do what he wanted, I'd be out on the street again. And by that point, I was drinking so much that I… I was scared of what would happen if I had to go sober again. I was trapped all over, but somehow worse than before."

Catra took a deep breath. She felt numb, which worried her, but it wasn't quite the same numbness from all those years ago. It was more distant than anything, as if she was telling someone else's story instead of hers. It was a helpful way to think about it, especially when she knew what came next.   
  
“I turned him down the first couple of times he offered me heroin,” she said, and she felt the scars on her arms burning dully. “The third time he did it, I was in a pretty bad place. More than usual I guess.” She didn’t need to go into detail on why she’d been worse off. Adora didn’t need to know that she had been flipping through channels when she caught one of her games being broadcast on television. “I cut myself pretty badly, and he walked in on me cleaning up in the kitchen. He said that it would take the pain away.

“He was right. People say horrible stuff about drugs, and it’s all pretty much true, but they don’t tell you that it really does what you want it to do. At first, anyways. It was the greatest escape I could have ever hoped for. I didn’t  _ care  _ when I was high, not about anything. I didn’t feel numb or angry or depressed, I was just  _ better _ .” Catra drew up short and chanced a glance at Adora. She was looking at her with deep concern, and maybe something that was close to nausea. She looked away again.

“He started asking more from me,” Catra continued, her voice trembling. “Less work and more...personal stuff. If I wanted another fix, I had to do it.” The distant feeling wavered at the tide of memories, and she tried her best to wall them away, deep inside of herself. “He wanted me to dress certain ways, or act like we were together in front of other people. He made me cut my hair because he liked it better short. There were...other things he wanted, too, and it was easier to do stuff like that when I was high. I think he liked me better that way. I didn’t care who he was or that-” she choked off, unable to continue. She tried and failed to hold back sobs and Adora put an arm around her and drew her close. Catra clutched at her jersey and tried to ground herself in Adora’s presence.    
  
“It’s okay,” she heard Adora say as she stroked her back. Her voice sounded tight, but it was warm with comfort nonetheless. “I’m here, you’re okay.”   
  
It took Catra a few minutes to compose herself. She carefully reconstructed the wall in her mind, burying the thoughts and images that were threatening to overwhelm her. After a few minutes of silence, she felt more calm, distant from the story once more. She didn’t pull away from Adora. “For a while, that was all there was to it,” she continued. “We were the king and queen of the Frights. We owned the neighborhood. Everybody knew where to go to get their fix. And every minute I wasn’t high out of my fucking mind, I was miserable. Prime scared me. He controlled me.”   
  
Catra looked up and met Adora’s blue eyes. They were bright with tears that she wouldn’t let fall. “I don’t know what happened the night I wound up at the hospital,” she admitted. “The doctors said that a white car pulled up in the ambulance lane and dumped me out of it. They told me I’d overdosed, and they’d called the address listed on my ID.” She blinked and looked away from Adora, resting her head against her chest. “I still don’t know why I overdosed. It could have been a mistake. I was using a lot, my tolerance was pretty high. I might have done it by accident. Or...maybe it wasn’t. I’ll never know for sure.”   
  
She stayed like that, pressed against Adora for what felt like a long time. She didn’t know what else to say. Adora knew the rest of the story. Catra had woken up and seen Adora dozing in the chair beside her bed. The hospital had called the house and found her there, recovering from the injury that ended her soccer career before it could begin, and she’d stolen Zella’s car to come to her side. They’d been together ever since. 

Adora broke the silence. “Asami’s not like that,” she said, her voice calm and steady. There was conviction in her tone, but no trace of harshness or reprimand. “I know she lied, and I know that hurt you. I understand now what that means to you, and I am so, so sorry you had to go through that, Catra, I truly am. But things are different now. You’re not alone anymore. You have me.”   
  
Catra felt a lump rising in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. She looked up at Adora. Did she have her? Still? Even after everything she’d done, everything she’d just told her? Something of her doubts must have shown on her face, because Adora’s expression softened. She cupped Catra’s cheek in one hand and kissed her delicately.    
  
“I told you, I will always love you,” she said, and there wasn’t a trace of doubt in her words. Tears ran down Catra’s face, but she nodded, flinging her arms around Adora’s neck and holding her tight, as if she would fall away into some dark abyss if she let her go. Adora wrapped her arms around Catra’s waist and held her, asking nothing from her in return.

The sounds of the night pressed in around them. Catra could hear crickets in earnest now, and the low humming of cicadas that would only get louder as summer drew nearer. The wind was a warm, gentle thing that made the leaves of the trees whisper as it passed through them. She let herself get lost in the sounds, and pressed herself against Adora, warding off the memories and the nightmares. Part of Catra believed Adora was right. She believed that Asami wasn’t anything like Prime. Catra had known he was a monster from more or less the beginning. Asami wasn’t like that.   
  
_ Unless she is _ , some scarred, damaged part of her whispered.  _ Unless she’s fooled both of you. You know nothing about her, not really. _

Except, that wasn’t true. She knew that Asami was a driven, intelligent person. She knew that she had given her and Adora a place to stay when they had nowhere else to go, based on the advice of a friend - or, well, girlfriend, she supposed - and very little else. She knew that she had worked hard to include her and Adora whenever possible, inviting them to join their games on the weekend. She knew that she could be a warm and tender person, she’d seen as much when she was with Korra.   
  
She thought about the day she’d spent with Yang, too. She thought about how sincere she’d been when they were together. She thought about the way she’d tried to give her space after stumbling on her secret, how willing she’d been to keep it to herself, something that held a lot more weight if she was as close to Korra and Asami as Adora was implying they were. Yang had accepted her in a way that nobody but Adora ever had. She’d comforted her, supported her. She  _ wanted  _ to believe she could trust them.

Then again, that’s what made betrayal hurt so badly. 

She eased away from Adora slowly, and her girlfriend took her hands. “What if,” she stopped, biting her lip. She took a deep breath and continued. “What if things go wrong somehow? What if I don’t feel safe there?”   
  
Adora gave her a small smile. “Then we’ll leave.” Catra looked at her skeptically.   
  
“We can’t afford anywhere else in the city,” she said.    
  
“Then we’ll find somewhere else to live.”   
  
Catra’s mouth felt dry. “You’d do that? For me?”   
  
Adora’s smile widened a fraction of an inch and she squeezed her hands. “Of course I would. No matter what we do, or what happens, we’ll do it together, okay?”   
  
Catra considered that a moment. There was a fear, deep inside of her, and she knew she had to give it words or it would sit there and fester until it consumed her. She looked away from Adora.    
  
“What if they want you to stay?”    
  
She thought about the night before. She thought about all the things Zella’s voice whispered to her. They were all better than she was. They were prettier, more accomplished, more stable. “They’d probably take you,” she heard herself say, her voice tight, something poisonous in her chest. “You know, if that was something you wanted.”   
  
She felt Adora’s fingers on her chin, lifting her face so that her mismatched eyes met Adora’s. Her expression was very serious. “Catra, I love you. I have always loved you. No matter what I do, or where I go, I want it to be with you.” They stared at each other a minute, then Catra nodded, the poisonous feeling fading slightly. Adora relaxed a little.    
  
“They’re our friends. We owe it to them to hear them out. Then...well, we’ll figure it out from there, okay? Together.”   
  
Catra nodded again. “Together. Okay.”   
  
Adora leaned over and kissed her forehead, then stood, helping Catra to her feet. She took her hand and let Catra lead her through the dark neighborhood and towards their house, for a long overdue conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Detailed Chapter Summary:
> 
> Catra runs from the house, torn up about what she witnessed between Asami and Yang. She reflects on her life after Adora left, and how she first thought about killing herself. She experiments with drinking and self-harm, and decides to live life on new terms. She gets a job and moves out of Zella's house after a confrontation with her foster mother.
> 
> In the present day, Catra is tempted to drink, going to a neglected playground and recovering a bottle of whiskey she hid there. She ultimately decides not to drink, letting the bottle shatter on the ground. Adora shows up and explains to Catra that their housemates are in a polyamorous relationship. Despite nobody having cheated, Catra feels betrayed and lied to, the pain made worse by the fact that Asami controls, in some ways, the way they live.
> 
> Catra recounts how she lost her job after stealing alcohol from the store. Without a job, she ends up homeless and on the street for a time. A chance encounter with a man named Prime, a drug dealer who is moving to her neighborhood, gets Catra a home, but at a price. Prime gets her hooked on heroine, and for a couple of years, Catra is miserable and at the mercy of the drug dealer. One night, she overdoses, and when the hospital called the address listed on her ID, Adora picked up and went to her.
> 
> Adora convinces Catra that Asami and the others aren't like that, and that they owe it to their friends to let them explain. She assures Catra that, if she doesn't feel comfortable, they can leave the house, even if it means moving cities to find somewhere more affordable. Catra reluctantly agrees, and the two of them make their way back to the house together.


End file.
